


Act: I

by westcoastatlanta



Series: Acts I and II [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: Alex is a an angry bottom, M/M, a slow burn, more dumb gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 19:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 150,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16582955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westcoastatlanta/pseuds/westcoastatlanta
Summary: Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens have been best friends since sixth grade when Alexander immigrated to South Carolina. Connected at the hip almost, it's always been them against the world. So, of course, they both move up to New York together to start a new life, go to college, make friends that aren't white, since South Carolina had little diversity. They never thought of becoming more than best friend, but of course, in New York you can be a new man.





	1. These dry gays just got a scholarship to Kings College

/John/

The salty air from the coast floats through the car, while rain taps lightly on the roof. Alex is singing along to Bryce Vine, I'm sitting back, one hand on the wheel, the other on my cup of coffee. We were about an hour from New York, and Alex was obviously excited. He and I have never been to New York together, so we know we're going to tear up the city tonight.

Alex and I have been friends since sixth grade. He moved to South Carolina from the Caribbean. He was an immigrant, scared, not knowing many people, and thrown into a mostly white neighborhood. He moved into the house across from me, and at the time, he was this sad kid who would sit outside and turn up his walkman and read while his cousin did god knows what. I didn't have many friends in the neighborhood, due to the fact that I was the only other person of color on the street. So Saturday afternoon, I decided I couldn't take the boredness I adorned and the fact that this kid looked like he was being fed not enough, so I invited him over to my house. He looked up, a little shocked, but then nodded and stood up. We went into my backyard, neither of us really saying much, but then he gasped.

"You have a trampoline?" He said excitedly.

"Yeah! You wanna jump on it?" I asked.

"Hells yes," he replied to me.

I was shocked, at the time, by his language, but I kinda appreciated his bluntness. After we jumped on the trampoline for a while, my mom invited both of us in for sandwiches and chips. Alex and I were talking non-stop. The summer after sixth grade Alex spent most of his time at my house. We talked a lot, he told me about his cousin, how most nights were filled with the sound of a creaking bed and a pornstar moan. How his cousin gets drunk a lot. I told Alex he was always welcome to stay with me. So, often times, he did. He and I quickly became best friends.

Middle school was awful for both of us. It was a majority white school, so racism wasn't uncommon. It affected Alex and me differently though. Alex got quieter, hid more, and often times he would text me in the middle of class and I would go straight to the upstairs bathroom where Alex would be panicking and trying to breathe. I would hold him and whisper lyrics to songs he's never heard. For me though, getting called the N-word just made me angry. The first two fights I got into I was beaten into a pulp. But then I started working out. I got stronger, I got better, so when some kids pushed Alex at the mall and told him to go back to his country, I knocked them on their asses.

High school was better. By this point, people knew that Alex was under my protection and I would easily defend him, so we were left alone. Alex started writing a lot, and I would get high and let him read what he wrote to me. It was always so beautiful. He has such a way with words. The way he spoke, it was mesmerizing. In the junior year, we both saved up and bought a truck. It was a small ford ranger with a cover over the back, but it was our truck. Senior year was a difficult year for Alex. His cousin committed suicide, he was struggling to maintain a four-point-oh while dealing with funeral arrangements. He broke once, and then that was it.

He had texted me at three am asking me if we could go for a drive. I was tired but I knew he needed it, so we got into our truck and started driving. Alex looked a mess. The bags under his eyes had become more defined and obvious in the past few weeks. He was struggling to get a scholarship to the college we were going to. He was struggling. I drove us out to a rarely used high way and we both got out and laid down on the pavement. We were just staring at the sky, close enough so that our shoulders were touching. Alex looked almost not even there. I had watched my best friend of almost six years start to fade away in the past two months. I found his hand with mine and we linked our pinkies. It's something we did when Alex was anxious or scared, or either of us was just sad.

"I'm sorry," he said, sitting up.

I sat up with him and adjusted myself so both he and I were facing each other. "Why?"

"I just, I haven't even talked to you in a while. You don't even know what's going on with me. When has that ever happened? We always know what's going on with each other. I'm sorry," he said. I saw, even in just the dim moonlight, his eyes watering up a bit.

"Hey, hey kiddo, it's okay. I get it, you're going through a rough time," I said, placing my hand on his knee.

"John I did a bad thing," he told me quietly.

He knew I noticed. I sighed and gently wrapped my hand around his wrist and ran my thumb across it through the hoodie it seemed he'd been wearing for the past month. "I know."

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice shaking.

"Hey, don't be sorry. I'm not mad. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what time it is. Come over, you're always welcome," I told him.

And then he started to be okay. We both got accepted into college, we both got a dorm together, and now we're both driving up the coast in our truck. Alex was wearing a hoodie with a picture of Edgar Allan Poe and then the phrase, 'I am a writer, therefore, I am not sane,' and a pair of slim black jeans and some checkered high top vans. His hair is in in a messy ponytail with hair falling out of it and framing his face. I'm adorned in a pair of slim blue jeans and a soft flannel with the sleeves rolled up. My hair is pulled back into a bun since it's too curly to leave down and have a full vision while driving.

"I can't believe it," Alex says.

"Believe what?" I ask, laughing and turning down the radio a bit.

"We are literally going to be in New York in an hour. We are going to college. No more South Carolina, no more racist comments, just a life of drinking, writing, and laughing," Alex says. Since we crossed the state line of our old state he's seemed a lot more carefree.

"I can't wait," I say.

"I'm glad we're roommates," Alex says, smiling at me.

"Me too. I don't think I could manage college without my best friend," I say.

"Psh, you would kick ass without me," Alex says laughing.

"I'd rather kick ass with you though. Is it weird that I'm kinda excited to like, maybe meet people who aren't white?" I tell him, thinking about all the new people we'll be immersed in.

"Oh my god, I'm so excited. Maybe I'll meet another immigrant. Maybe people will stop telling me to go back to my country. Oh my god, maybe you won't have to get into any more fights." Alex was getting excited and his Caribbean accent glimmered through a bit. He never quite picked up a southern accent, but his Carribean accent faded a bit.

"I'm sure this will be one of the best couple of years of our lives," I say, smiling at him.

"It will," he replies.

We drive for a while more, breathing in the city air, getting stuck in a bit of late night traffic, but finally arriving at our hotel. The dorms don't open until tomorrow, But Alex and I decided to drive in today so we can sleep in a bit and then drive to the campus. We started driving around ten this morning, and it's about eight now, so we grab our night bags and head in. It's a small old hotel, and since it was cheaper, we got a room with just one bed. Alex and I have shared a bed since seventh grade. We're just kinda used to it. Alex sleeps with his back against the wall with most of the blanket wrapped around him while I sleep with one arm and leg off the bed and no blankets at all.

"Would you like a cot?" The lady asks when I tell her we booked a single queen.

"Why would we want a cot?" Alex asks.

"No reason," she says snidely. I roll my eyes and snatch the key from her hand, then make my way to the elevator with Alex. When the elevator starts going up I start jumping, which instantly gets Alex in a flurry.

"Laurens! What if it breaks?" He exclaims.

"It won't," I say, still hopping like a rabbit.

"What if we get stuck in here and we're late for college and then I lose my scholarship and then I have to go back to the car-"

He's cut off by the elevator door opening on our floor.

"Yes Alexander, I'm sure that is what's going to happen," I say, smirking at him and stepping off.

"Don't call me Alexander," he snaps, laughing a bit.

"I'll call you whatever I please," I reply, laughing as I open the door to our hotel room. It's nice, quaint. A nicely made bed is pressed against a wall, a small kitchen is near it with a few sitting chairs. A door to the bathroom is next to the cooking area. I sigh happily and walk in with Alex. Since we both woke up at six to finish packing, load up the truck, say our goodbyes, and eat breakfast, we are a bit tired. So I get out my pajamas while Alex showers. I pull out my book from my suitcase, a small one about the revolutionary war, and sit on one of the armchairs, placing my feet on the coffee table.

A few minutes later Alex comes out of the shower so I close my book and walk into the bathroom. I peel off my shirt and look in the mirror. My body isn't overly buff, but a prominent six-pack. I take off my pants and turn on the shower, letting my skin and muscles relax. Driving a lot always makes me feel really stiff, so I like to take hot showers and stretch afterward. I know Alex will be reading some five hundred plus page book so it'll be a good time to stretch out my back and legs and whatnot.

When my shower is done I wrap a towel around my waist and walk out to the main room. Alex, like my prediction, is reading an old book called New Politics Of The Old South. I smile a bit and slip on a pair of white-grey sweatpants, then begin to do a bit of yoga. I stretch out my hips, my back, my arms, and legs, and soon I feel nothing but euphoria. I climb into bed next to Alex and roll so that I'm facing him.

"Read to me," I request. Reading has always been a bit difficult for me due to underlying dyslexia, but Alex has never been one to deny my request. He likes to read to me, sometimes I think he just likes to hear his own voice, but I never minded. I like the way he speaks. It makes me feel alive. He speaks with his heart on his sleeve, and if you really listen to him, you can tell exactly how he's feeling with each and every word he says. I listened to him become sad when he read me War And Peace, I listened to him laugh as he read me A Midsummer's Night's Dream. I love the way he reads.

He began reading from the book and I closed my eyes and listened. He spoke intelligently, he spoke quietly. He knew that I was listening to the words, but more to his voice. He knew that he was helping me fall asleep. It's what he does sometimes. Because I do have trouble falling asleep, so he just talks to me. And I listening to his soft voice until my body is lulled into a deep sleep. And that's what happens here. Alex helps me fall asleep. And that's all I needed from him tonight.


	2. Alex and John have never had friends outside of each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to say something to me or leave kudos or something

/John/

Alex always goes to sleep after me and wakes up before me. So around eight am I wake up to a large crash and profanities, both in French and English, coming from my friend's mouth. I push myself up and look over to see Alex on the floor next to a tipped over an armchair. He's staring at the ceiling, not making any attempt to get up, so I go over and lie next to him.

"I thought it wouldn't fall," he says, looking at me.

"I know you did bud," I reply, nodding.

"This is our first morning in New York," Alex points out as we stare at the tiled ceiling.

"I'm sure they have bagels somewhere around here," I say, rolling onto my side and propping myself up on my elbow.

"Shouldn't we go and get our dorm set up and everything?"

"Well if we do that then the chances of us meeting new people are slim to none," I explain to him.

Alex scoffs a bit and rolls his eyes. "You mean we need to meet new people? What's wrong with our only friends being each other?"

I smile. "Believe it or not, we may want to hang out with other people at some point."

Alexander gasps. "Madness."

"Shut up. Let's get dressed and get some bagels," I laugh, pushing myself up from the floor. Alex gets up to and fixes the chair, then we both dig through our suitcases for an outfit. I decide on a white v-neck tee shirt and some brown joggers with my trademarked black vans. Alex is wearing his yellow 'life's a gamble' Skeggs sweatshirt and a pair of black jeans and checkered Vans. He ties his hair up, as I do mine, then we both grab our wallets and key and walk out the door.

New York is busy at 9 am on a Thursday. Who would've thought? Alex and I walk on a tightly packed sidewalk down the street, him holding onto the hem of my tee shirt so he doesn't lose me. Eventually though, after a few blocks of walking and about five minutes of Alex sitting on a park bench and calming down, we make it to a bagel shop. Alex let's out a deep breath when we see that it's not as crowded as it could've been. We walk up to the counter and I pull out my wallet, looking at the menu.

"Hi, what can I get you two today?" A guy at the front asks.

"I'd like a sesame bagel not toasted with cream cheese and my friend would like a cinnamon raisin bagel with honey walnut cream cheese, and two black coffees," I say, knowing that that's Alex's favorite type. Before Alex can come even close to objecting to me paying, I've already scanned my card and signed the receipt. I know Alex's financial status is receding and that he's barely paying for college, so I like to pay for whatever I can.

"You didn't have to pay for me," Alex mumbles as we sit down at a small table by the window.

"I know I didn't," I tell him, fluffing up the back of my ponytail a bit.

"So why did you?" He asks.

I smirk at him. "I swear your pride will be the death of us all. Let me treat my friend."

I can tell he's about to argue more, but thankfully our bagels come over. Alex and I have never really argued. We've had disagreements and gotten mad at each other, yes, but we've never argued. Which is good because I know for a fact that this aspiring lawyer would ten out of ten kick my ass. What I lack in brains, Alex makes up for.

"I can't believe this. We're in New York," Alex says, looking at all the people walking by.

"We are," I smile.

"John?" He calls my name quietly.

"Yes, Alex?" I reply, my foot brushing his under the table.

"Do you, do you think that maybe, you know, maybe I'll finally be able to like, stand up for myself here? Like, I won't need you fighting anyone who bumps me, because I'll be able to use my-" He flips a few flyaways from his face dramatically. "Eloquence to explain to them why they should jump off a bridge."

I laugh. "I do. In New York, you can be a new man. Just not too new, I still need my Alex."

"And I still need my John," Alex laughs.

When we finish our bagels and coffee we walk back to our hotel and pack up our stuff. Now if we had stayed focused on our packing it maybe would've taken us fifteen minutes but we didn't and it took us about an hour because Alex had to explain to me that the soaps and shampoos in hotel rooms were complimentary but the pillowcases and sheets were not. And then when we were driving to the campus, we got lost, twice. So, by the time we finally pull into the parking lot, it's about noon.

"If you had pulled over and asked for directions we would've been here thirty minutes ago," Alex points out as we pull a few boxes from the back of our truck.

"We didn't need to pull over and ask for directions, we had a map," I reply.

"The map was useless," Alex muttered.

"We're here aren't we?" I shoot over a charming dimpled smile.

Alex shakes his head, smiling too. "Yeah, we're here."

We walk into the dorm building, where many other kids our age seem to be headed, and go to the lady at the front desk. We have to stand in line for a few minutes because a few other kids are getting their keys, but it's just enough time for the luggage Alex's arms to start to get heavy and for me to take his boxes. Finally, we get to the front, so I peak over the tower of boxes to view the lady at the front desk. She's a strongly built woman with a slim face and brown hair tied up in a bun looks at us and smiles.

"Hello, my name is Martha, can I have your names?" She asks.

"Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens," Alex tells her.

"Oh! You're Alex! My husband is one of your professors and he was one of the people who got you your scholarship. He talks very highly of your writing," Martha says, pulling out our keys and handing them to Alex, who is by now blushing intensely.

"You should hear the way he talks," I tell her, poking my head out from the side of the boxes. I almost drop one but I'm quick to readjust myself again.

"Well I hope you will join our debate club, it's quite fun," Martha says. "You two are on the second floor, room 247. You boys have fun."

"Thank you," Alex replies. He and I head towards the elevator but then after deciding that a claustrophobic induced anxiety attack would not be a good way to start off Alex's college experience, we head to the stairs. Since we're only on the second floor the climb is easy and soon enough we are walking towards our room. When we finally get there Alex pulls out the key and I almost think we're going to make it in without any mishaps, but then a large someone falls into me. Thankfully, I was only carrying books and clothes, because I drop all the boxes.

"Hercules!" I hear a French accent yell. A guy who looks to be biracial comes out of the room across from us with his jaw dropped. He has very curly hair, tied back into a bun, and a prominent five o'clock shadow. I'm lying on my stomach, a couple boxes half on me, and this Hercules guy seems to be lying across my legs.

"Shit, fuck, I am so sorry. I really didn't mean to," the guy says, quickly pushing himself off of me and starting to pick up the boxes. He looks fully African American, with dark skin and a bandana tied around his head. He's buffer than me but looks kind.

"John are you okay?" Alex asks, helping me up.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, smiling a bit.

"Please, excuse him. Him and his American manners. Hello, I'm Lafayette, America's favorite immigrant, fluent in both French and English," says the biracial one.

Alex gasps. "You're an immigrant?" The look of excitement in his eyes makes me happy too. He's just contagious with the way he feels sometimes.

"Yes..?" Lafayette says, unsure of what Alex's next words will be.

"I'm an immigrant! Oh my gosh I'm sorry I've just never met another immigrant I grew up in a really white area of America and John was the only person I knew who wasn't white and he was born here but I was born in the Caribbean and I'm an immigrant and you're an immigrant, and oh I'm probably talking too loud. Sometimes I get over excited and shoot off at the mouth, I've never met another immigrant before," Alex rambles, his face turning bright red towards the end.

"Oh mon Ami!" Lafayette laughs. "It's okay. My experience with immigrants has been very limited too, I'm happy to be your first." He winks at Alex. "Anyway, you know me, this is my boyfriend Herc, who so rudely knocked over your..." He looks at me, unsure of what to call me.

"Friend," I say, smiling.

"I guess you could say I fell for you the moment I saw you." Hercules finger guns at his own pun and Lafayette rolls his eyes. "Anyways, we should let you two set up. But it seems that we'll most likely be seeing you around."

"Yeah sure," I say, smiling. Alexander and I walk into our dorm and he smiles. Two beds on either side of our room, blank walls that our mass collection of posters can fill, shelves for Alex's books, two desks right next to our beds. A bathroom. And a closet for our clothes. This is going to be fun.

You know those movies where they move into a new house and it just shows a montage of them setting it up and making it their own? That's what it was like for Alex and I. I had turned on our Bluetooth speaker and played post-punk bands while Alex and I set everything up. We hung up our clothes in the closet, Alex sat on my shoulders for a solid fifteen minutes while he stuck glow in the dark stars to the ceiling. We hung up fairy lights from corner to corner. Alex put up his trademark Edgar Allan Poe poster right over his bed to watch over him quote on quote. Soon enough, we're throwing the empty boxes into the back of the truck and walking back up to our rooms. It's about three and neither of us has gotten lunch yet, so I call in for a pizza and knock on Hercules' and Lafayette's door, much to Alex's nervous protest.

"Hey, Alex and I ordered a pizza, do you guys want to come over and eat it with us? It's cheese," I tell Lafayette, the one who opened the door. Before he even answers, Hercules has his arm around him and is smiling happily.

"Yes we do very much," Hercules says.

"Sweet, it should be here in about ten minutes, if you wanna come over now," I offer.

"We would love to meet our, uh, Herc, baby, what's the word?" Lafayette looks at Hercules.

"Mates?"

Laf shakes his head.

"Partners?"

Again, another head shake. "No, like when the people live in the house next to you they are your..?" Lafayette looks a little shy at his forgetfulness with words, but I remember helping Alex get better at English, due to the fact that he was much more educated in the French language.

"Neighbors!" Herc says loudly.

"Yes! Neighbors! We'd love to meet our neighbors," Lafayette says, looking back at me.

I smile and then look at them quickly. "I have some anti-gay propaganda hanging up on my wall but only because it's funny."

"Oh? Like what?" Hercules laughs as we walk across the hall into my dorm.

I step in and point to my personal favorite. "That one says homosexuals will contract cancer earlier in life with literally no research or study and so I like to keep that as a reminder of how fucking dumb people can be."

"Hi," says Alex shyly.

"Sit anywhere you like," I tell them, plopping myself on the floor next to Alex, who was still reading his New Government For The Old South book.

"You came from the Caribbean, oui?" Lafayette asks Alexander.

"Oui," Alex replies. "Je parlais surtout français mais John m'a aidé à apprendre plus d'anglais."

"I heard my name," I say, oblivious to whatever Alex just told Lafayette.

"I was just telling him about how you helped me learn English," Alex said to me. He looked back to Lafayette. "I haven't really had a lot of people to talk to in French for a few years so it's kinda nice. It's my first language."

"Well, mon ami, if you ever wish to talk shit in French, I am right across the hall," Lafayette smiles.

Alex smiles back and then I hear a knock on our door. I stand up and open it, seeing a short kid with a pimply face standing there and a pizza. I pay and walk back in, and for a few minutes, no one talks because the afternoon delight of pizza is too good to interrupt.

"So what are you all about?" Alex asks, setting down his half-eaten slice of cheese pizza.

"Well, I am here to study politics. I want to go into government to maybe stop the anarchy going on in third world countries, you know? Tear down dictatorships, that kind of stuff. I grew up watching people immigrate to France from places where the violence was just too much, so I'm trying to devote my life to helping people like that," Lafayette explains.

"My little freedom boy," Hercules laughs. "I grew up here in New York, but I met Lafayette when I was overseas for a year. He and I became friends real fast when we both found out we were headed to New York City for college. Um, I'm studying design, culinary practices, and, for fun, art."

"Hey, I'm studying art too," I say. "I'm also here for environmental studies and human rights studies. Growing up in the armpit of racism, I was quickly exposed to being profiled as a criminal. My friend, Alex, he was light enough to avoid a lot of it, but there have been times where I have come close to getting arrested for no reason other than the fact that I was darker skinned. I have witnessed human rights abuses, I have seen my best friend get stuck in a TSA checkpoint because he is an immigrant, and I want to change that. Other than that though, I grew up with Alex, down in South Carolina, and now I'm here."

Alex chuckles. "I moved to South Carolina when I was twelve with my cousin. Alex was my best and only friend, and so we both just kinda stuck together when decided where to go to college. I'm here to study politics. I want to be in the government someday and I feel as though I can change America."

"Sounds like you and John are two peas in a pod," Hercules smirks. "C'mon be for real with us." He nudges Lafayette to emphasize which 'us' he's talking about.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You two," Laf says, smirking.

"What about us?" Alex says, just as clueless as me.

"Are you fucking?" Hercules asks, bluntly.

"No!" Alex exclaims, clutching his hand to his chest.

"Bullshit!" Lafayette says.

"We're not! We're just friends," I explain.

"You guys are so touchy! Like, are you not noticing this?" Hercules says.

Alex has been leaning against me and fiddling with my fingers this whole interaction. He and I have always been very close, and we are pretty touchy. Alex gets anxious a lot, so playing with his hair is something I do to help. I get mad a lot, so him playing with my fingers or just touching me, in general, is something he does to help me. It's normal for us. I remember on nights when the southern rains would hit us Alex would always end up right next to me and I would run my hands through his hair and sing just loud enough so that the rain and the thunder were merely background noise. Alex would always join along and it would make me smile because he has such a pretty voice. He and I sing together a lot because we do harmonize together and because it's very relaxing for both of us. Him and I, I guess, calm each other down really easily.

"We've always been touchy," Alex states.

"Yeah, since like, sixth grade. It's normal for us," I state.

Lafayette looks almost done while Hercules looks confused, almost as if he doesn't believe us. I shrug it off. He doesn't need to believe us, because we believe us, mostly.


	3. It's time for college and the workaholic (Alex) is ready to work

/Alex/

I'm not going to lie, waking up on my first day of college was exciting. I had all my textbooks ready, I had my pencil bag, I had my laptop, I have my notebooks, I had my gum, and best of all, I had my coffee. My first class was at seven so I woke up at five to shower, pick out an outfit, which just consisted of a pair of black jeans and a grey hoodie. Around six I woke John up, because he, like me, had a seven am class but takes very little time to get ready. While he brushes his teeth I do his hair and then he goes and gets dressed while I do mine. I did his up and in a bun with a few flyaways because it always brings more attention to the constellations freckles on his face. I did mine in a ponytail because it's easy.

"Are you ready for your first day?" I say excitedly as John pours coffee from our coffee maker into his thermos.

"Ugh no. I'm tired and I woke up with morning wood and I want to sleep another eight hours and hot damn this is good coffee." John sets his thermos down and lays back down on his bed. The clock says six thirty so I decide to just let him lie there for another ten minutes while I make sure I have everything. I grab a few extra hair ties just in case and at 6:42 I pull John out of bed and tell him there's still a five-minute walk to our classes and we need to be there early.

"C'mon," I beg, pulling John out of bed and handing him his messenger bag.

"I hate you," he grumbles, pulling it over his shoulder and grabbing his coffee.

"My heart," I say, feigning hurt.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. You know I love you, kid," John says, smiling and bumping him as we walk out of our dorm and down the hall. "Now remember, it's your first day of college, so listen to your professor and play nice with the other kids. No fighting, unless of course, the other kids want to fight, then you gotta kick the other kid's butts."

"Will do," I smile. We walk down the stairs and head to our classes. Alex and I go to different buildings since he has environmental studies and I have law. We bid adieu and I head to my law class. When I get to the class, I find that only a few people are there, so I take this time to introduce myself to the professor. He's a tall man with chocolate skin and a structured jaw. He looks a bit bored, staring at a few papers, so I walk up to his desk.

"Hello!" He says, looking up before I can get a word out. "I'm professor Washington! You must be one of the freshmen in this class, there aren't many of you but I'm glad to see you all so involved in stuff like this. What's your name?"

"I'm Alexander Hamilton," I tell him, smiling and holding out my hand.

"My God, you're Alex? I read your writing when the committee was deciding whether or not to give you a scholarship and I was blown away. You have such a way with words Alex, and your passion for law and politics is refreshing. I'm looking forward to teaching you, and being taught by you," professor Washington says.

I feel my face redden. The only person who's ever really talked about my writing like that is John. "Thank you, sir. That really means a lot to hear."

"Of course. The class will begin soon, so why don't you go sit next to Aaron Burr? I feel like you and him will get along nicely!" Washington says, smiling. He points to a guy sitting and staring at a few papers near the middle. I nod and walk up to him. I hope this was the guy Washington was directing me to.

"Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr?" I say, confidence in my voice.

The guy looks up. "That depends, who's asking?"

"Oh! Well for sure! I'm Alexander Hamilton, Washington told me to look for you," I say.

"I'm getting nervous," Aaron laughs.

"Oh! I'm sorry," I exclaim.

Aaron gestures for me to sit. "You're one of the freshmen, right?"

I nod, sitting and pulling out my notebook and laptop. "Yes, are you?"

"No, but I did get into college at seventeen, so really I am supposed to be," Aaron explains to me. "I graduated high school at sixteen."

"How'd you do it? How'd you graduate so fast?" I ask, excited by this intelligent man.

"It was my parents dying wish," he tells me, a far-off look in his eyes.

I gasp excitedly. "You're an orphan! I'm an orphan!" My voice draws attention from other people but I don't care. "God I wish we could join the real government so we could prove that we're worth more than anyone ever thought."

"Hey, while we're talking, can I offer you some free advice?" Aaron says, his cheeks red as his eyes flit around the room to see who heard me.

"Of course," I say.

He smiles a bit. "Talk less."

I'm shocked. No one has ever told me that. "What?"

"Smile more," Aaron finishes.

"You can't be serious," I say.

"Hey, I'm just saying," he shrugs.

"Alexander! Mon ami!" I hear a familiar French accent say. Lafayette, wearing tight blue jeans, doc martens, and a beige sweater, ran up to sit next to me. He has on gold highlight and winged eyeliner so sharp it could cut you. His hair was up in a messy bun and little diamond studs were in his earlobes.

"You look very nice today," I compliment.

"I know, Hercules could barely keep his hands off me this morning," Laf replies, pulling out his laptop. Suddenly, a few new people walk in. The first one has curled black hair and a mixed skin tone like Laf. He's wearing a purple hoodie and some black joggers. Then a darker one with a closely cut hairstyle and a very emo sense of fashion.

"Jefferson," Washington smiles, waving.

"Hello, professor!" Jefferson says. "Burr! Didn't think I'd see you here! Who's the entourage?" He asks.

"Thomas, James, meet Alex and his friend who I currently don't know the name of. Alex is one of the freshmen in this class," Aaron introduces.

"Lafayette," Thomas addresses, plopping himself down right next to him.

"Thomas," Laf replies. "May I ask why you are feeling the need to grace me with your direct presence?"

"Six months ago you would've been giving me a hand job by now," Thomas smirks.

"Six months ago you weren't a prick," Lafayette snaps back.

"Back off dude," I say, facing Thomas.

"Ooh, James, the freshman are standing up for each other," Thomas says, laughing. "Whatcha gonna do, pussycat? Bite my ankles?"

"Boys, play nicely," says a girl, standing at the edge of our row. She's tall, strong looking, with a smirk on her face. She's wearing a rose dust pink sweater with some blue skinny jeans and a black baseball cap over her curly brown to blonde ombre hair. "Jefferson, leave the freshman alone. We all know Lafayette was way out of your league. Now move."

"You can't make me move," Jefferson spits.

"Baby, you're cute. Get up, leave," she demands.

Jefferson mumbles a choice of words under his breath as him and James get up and find another place to sit. This girl who I don't even know comes over and sits down next to Lafayette and I. Lafayette seems to have a better idea of her because he smiles and hugs her.

"Angelica, mon ami, it's good to see you," he says, smiling.

"Who's the new kid?" She asks, looking at me.

"This is Alex," Laf introduces me.

"Hi," I say shyly.

"Cute," she smirks.

"Hey, Angelica! Why don't you just get on your knees for him already?" Says Thomas.

I'm about to tell him a choice of words when Washington silences the class. "Okay, welcome to advanced politics and law. It's nice to see some new and old faces here."

He starts talking and I'm instantly encaptured, taking notes on whatever might seem important. John bought me about thirty of the one hundred page spiral notebooks. I started off by saying that he was being ridiculous and that there was no way I was going to fill all of those up this year. Then he pulled out all the notebooks I used in my high school year. There were about twenty-five of the seventy-page ones.

"If this is what you fill up in a high school year, then I didn't get you enough for college," he told me, laughing. John is my best friend. He always has been. I moved from the Caribbean when I was just a kid. My father had left, my mother had died, and a storm had washed away everything I ever loved, so people helped me raise money so I could go live with my cousin I would be moving to America in the middle of the school year to a state that has a mass majority white population. My cousin was a bastard drunk and I knew it, but I had to live with him. I had nowhere else to turn. As I adjusted to life with my cousin I also adjusted to how little food I would have, how loud he was at night, and that I had to watch where I stepped due to broken glass. Most of the time I would sit in the front yard with my Walkman and my book and wait until he passed out, or something at least. That's when I met John. He lived across from me and I had seen him a couple of times looking at me. He was the first colored boy I had seen since I got here. It was almost refreshing, like, I was still in the universe and not some weird parallel.

John walked over to my yard and stopped right in front of me. I was sitting on the grass, headphones in, and a book about the history of communism in my lap. I looked up at him. His hair fell around his face like a halo, his freckles looked like constellations, and his eyes were a mix of browns and greens. I didn't know what to say at first because, in all honesty, I expected him to tell me to go back to my country or something like that. Every since I moved there it had seemed that that was all people were saying to me. I didn't really know how to explain that I was legally a US citizen so this technically was my country.

"You wanna hang out?" John said. I was shocked at first. No one had wanted to hang out with me in the two weeks I had been there, but here he was, this skinny mixed kid with long curly hair and pretty dimples, asking me if I wanted to hang out.

"Sure," I said, standing up and putting my walkman in my pocket and my book under my arm. We went to his backyard and jumped on his trampoline, something I had only seen in movies before, and then his mom let us come inside and eat sandwiches. It was the first full meal I had eaten in a while and it was amazing. John and I became fast friends after that. The summer before seventh grade was the summer we talked about our secrets. I told John everything about my cousin and my mom, who died right next to me, and my dad, who left me. I told him about how I was scared of everything, I told him how I always got panic attacks when it rained. And he told me he'd protect me from everything. And he has stayed very true to that.

After my law and politics class, I begin to walk to my writing technique class, but someone catches up with me. Angelica, the girl from my law class. She's very pretty and by the looks of it, very intelligent. I have never heard a black girl speak so passionately about law and ask so many questions. She's obviously one of the professor's favorites. She seems very headstrong too, stubborn, but in a good way. She's very poised and calm about her beliefs though, and I don't know if this girl could ever lose her cool.

"Alexander, right?" She says.

"That is correct," I reply.

"Is this your first year?" She asks.

I nod. "Yes, my friend and I both got accepted here."

She smiles. "That's cool. It's one of my sister's first year here too. What class do you have now?" Angelica is very flowing in conversation, I like it. It leaves no room for awkward silence, which is something that always trips me up in social situations.

"I have a writing technique," I tell her.

"Ooh, smart boy. I have psychology so this is where I leave you. Have a good time in class Alex," she says to me.

"You too," I reply. I continue my walk to my neck class and sit down. My first day goes by smoothly and by four I'm done with all five of my classes. John was right about my notebooks. I filled up a minimum of four pages in each notebook for each class on the first day, I might need more at some point, especially for when we actually need to start taking vigorous notes.

I walk to the campus cafeteria to get some food. I had missed lunch due to an advanced statistics class I was taking, so I was hungry. Luckily, the cafeteria possessed a salad and some very good looking pizza. I sat in the bag and munched on my food while I started working on something for my writing technique class. It was just an extra credit assignment but I decided to get it out of the way now.

"Ha, how did I know I'd find you doing work?" John says. He has coffee and a plate with two slices of pizza on it. He looks happy and a bit tired, but overall normal. He sits across from me and smiles. A few more bits of hair has fallen from his bun.

"Hey, it's an extra credit assignment and the only one I got today so I might as well do it," I shrug. I close my laptop so I can eat and talk to him.

"You are going to overwork yourself on this and the assignments you get with this Alexander," John laughs.

"Am not! This will just be for fun," I tell him.

"Such a workaholic," he mumbles, taking a bite of pizza. "How was your first day?"

"It was good. I made a few friends," I tell him.

"Ooh, like who?" He asks, interested.

"Um, this guy named Aaron Burr, this girl named Angelica, and this girl named Eliza sort of," I tell him, thinking about how I met Eliza in my statistics class.

"Ladies man," John teases.

"Shut up," I shoot back, smiling. "What about you?"

"I had a nice time. Met a girl named Peggy, hung out with Herc a lot since he's in most of my classes. It's funny, all through high school we always had the same classes and the moment we go to college it's like we have no classes together. It's weird. I have no one to lean over and whisper dick jokes too," John says, smiling at me.

"Well, you can always text them," I point out.

"That's true. Do you like all of your professors?" John asks me. I love it when John asks me questions. He knows all too well that I enjoy talking a fair amount. He knows all too well that I would talk until I passed out if I could. But for some reason, he likes to listen to me talk, so I'll talk for him and he'll listen to me. It's a really nice dynamic because we are almost the physical definition of yin and yang. Brains and brawn, quiet and loud, it's quite helpful really. We match like puzzle pieces.

"I do. My favorite so far is professor Washington. He said he really liked my writing and was really excited to teach and be taught by me, which was something a teacher has never said to me before. He's really good at teaching too, I was enraptured by his pithy lesson and exegesis of some laws," I tell John.

John holds up his hand. "Pithy and exegesis, definition?"

I smile. John does this sometimes when I use words out of the ordinary. "Exegesis means the critical explanation or interpretation of a text, and pithy means concise and full of meaning."

"Okay got it. Continue."

"Anyway, for a quick exercise he had us write down what we think would be the best thing to fix the government right now and so, of course, I wrote about the financial system and he read it out loud and then told me that I was obviously very educated and passionate about this subject and he looked forward to seeing me unfurl this plan into maybe something bigger over the following semesters. It was really cool to hear someone talk about my writing like that because the only person who ever does it is you and to think someone who does this as a job took time to actually look over what I had written and then call it out for its eloquence and structure in front of people is just so cool. High school was never like that. John, I'm just loving college so much." I finally finish my rant and look up to see John smiling. "Do you like your professors?"

He nods. "Yes, Alexander. I do."


	4. John gets drunk and is waaaaay too gay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title says it all.

Alex

A lot can define a best friend. Whether it is the purchase of food for you, or it's the music they play for you or the shit they talk with you. But a best friend is always loyal, a best friend cares, and a best friend will sometimes go to odd lengths to help you. John has gone to some pretty odd lengths for me. From holding my hair back to let me vomit while we're both half naked leaning over a bathtub while he vomits as well, to carrying me on his shoulders for a solid ten minutes so I could see the band that was playing on stage. There are more, but those are just my favorites. Either way, John's actions have proved him very laudable and kind. Like right now. Because he is forcing me to go to a party, he has so graciously offered to quiz me on the flashcards I made for myself so I can study.

"This is dumb we aren't even a week in why do you care?" John complains. I turn off the shower and then grab a towel, drying off behind the curtain and then wrapping it around my waist and stepping out.

"Because what if we get a pop quiz? And finals are just months away so it's best to prepare now," I shoot back and I fluff up my hair in the mirror a bit before walking out of the bathroom to get dressed.

"Yeah but like, you're already overworking yourself," John says from the bathroom.

I slip on my green hoodie with the words 'I only came because John made me' on it. Back in high school, the only reason I would go out anywhere really was that John made me come with him, so he thought it would be hysterical to give me a hoodie that says that, but in all honesty, it's quite comfy and I really enjoy wearing it.

After putting on my wonderful sweater, I slip on a pair of boxers and a pair of slim blue jeans, as well as my red beat up converse. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and scratched the hair on my chin that was sort of there. "John C'mon! I already don't want to go and every second we spend here makes me want to go even less!"

John walks out of the bathroom in a pair of tight blue jeans, a faded brick red long sleeve shirt, and some old beat up brown combat boots. His hair is loose and left without the confines of a bun or hair tie of any sorts. He looks like a model standing next to me.

"I'm ready Alexander," he says.

I suddenly feel very self-conscious. "Maybe I shouldn't go."

"What? Why not?" He says, walking towards me and putting his hand on my arm.

"I just have to study and like, I don't even look party-ready I just look like the guy who didn't care enough to put an effort into it and everyone else is probably going to look better than me and I know that's vain it's just maybe I'm not the college party type," I say, looking down.

"Alex," John says in a soft voice. I look up at him and he smiles. "You look great. C'mon. I promise, if after thirty minutes you hate it and want to drown yourself in a keg, we can come back here and binge That 70s Show, alright?"

I nod and smile. "Okay." John pulls me into a very unexpected hug for a second, then we step out of the dorm. John had informed me earlier that we would be arriving with Laf and Herc and since they were not waiting for us, we were to wait for them. I take this time fluff up John's hair a bit and get it to look less staticky and what not, and John takes this time to tell me that it's going to be hot and dark so I should put a tee shirt on under my hoodie and that no one would notice my arms. To which I respond with a 'no way in hell.'

Suddenly, Laf emerges from his dorm. He has on a pair of tight Capri blue jeans and a yellow short sleeve crop top, with some black low top vans. His eyes are painted with glitter and his cheeks are brighter than my future. Herc comes out behind him in an outfit much like mine, a red zip-up hoodie and some dark blue slim jeans, as well as a black bandana tied around his head. He looks as if he and Laf had the same conversation about not looking very good that John and I had.

"Come on my fellow fidget spinners, it's time to party," Lafayette smiles, striking a pose.

"If those words ever leave your mouth I'm hiring a divorce lawyer," Hercules laughs.

"You'll have to marry me to get one of those," Laf winks.

We all start walking and Hercules falls in next to me. "It's nice to see I'm not the only one who didn't go all out. I like your hoodie."

"Thank you, I like yours too. I'm not much of a party person really," I explain.

Herc shrugs. "I'm not either. Those two seem like they are though." He nods to John and Laf, who are strutting down the hallway like they own the place. "If you wanna escape chances are I do too just find me."

"Thank you," I say, smiling.

"So where is this?" John asks since Laf was the one with all the details.

"Frat house, just about a block away," Laf clarifies.

"Cool," John replies.

"Back in high school we weren't invited to a lot of parties but spring break we would always drive down to Florida together," I tell Herc.

He nods, silently urging me to go on.

"I usually could only make it a few days and then I would go back to solitude, I am a bit of an introvert, but John was the life of the party. He flirted with anyone he could get his hands on, he was friendly, he drank with everyone, he didn't fight or start shit, he was respectful. I just get so exhausted by spending so much time with people." I tighten up my ponytail a bit as I start to hear the music from the frat house.

"I get that. I mean my boyfriend is the human embodiment of a party gay, while I really just enjoy staying home and drawing. But I'll go with him because, ya know, I love him and he loves this, so I just want to do couple things with him, ya know? And if that means sacrificing a productive night of designing so I can watch my boyfriend take for jello shots then twerk to a Nicki Minaj song, then that's what it means," Herc laughs.

"Don't you get jealous or something? Like what if other people are looking at him?" I ask.

Herc shrugs. "I can't stop other people from looking at him, but I can make sure they know he's taken. That's what I usually do, but I trust Laf. I know that even when he's drunk he loves me." Herc looks at Lafayette and smiles sweetly

"We are here!" John says as we finally come to the obviously partying house. I sigh and almost turn around but John puts his arm around my waist and pulls me in. He doesn't take his arm away from me so I lean into him a bit as we walk past people. Herc and I are obviously a bit underdressed. People aren't wearing ties or anything, everyone is just kinda dressed up to look, well, hot. And then there's me, in a three-day-old pair of jeans and an old hoodie. I feel shy and ready to bolt to the backyard since that is usually where the less enthusiastic partiers are. But John keeps his arm tight around me as we find the drinks table. He pours me something out of a bottle and hands it to me. It's brown but not beer. He then pours himself some clear liquid out of a bottle that's shaped like a skull. He takes a large sip and smiles at me.

"John alcohol tastes gross," I say.

"I gave you one that tastes like candy apples," he informs me.

I look at him skeptically, then take a sip. Moments later that sip is on the floor and I'm coughing. "John! It did not!"

"Lightweight," he chuckles. I groan and bury my face into his shoulder as he takes another sip of what smells to be rubbing alcohol. A few people he must know a little bit approach him and start talking and I take this as the perfect moment to slip out of his arm and disappear. Lafayette is on the dance floor, grinding onto Hercules, so I decide to make my way out to the backyard. It's a lot quieter, fewer people, and what looks to be liquids that aren't alcoholics.

"You seem like the type who does not like parties," says a familiar voice. I turn to see Aaron Burr. He's over with Angelica and Eliza. I smile, happy to see a few familiar faces here, and walk over to them. Arron is just wearing a long sleeve tee shirt and a pair of jeans. Angelica adorns the same thing she wore earlier, and Eliza had on a large sea blue sweater and some grey leggings.

"I am not," I tell him.

"Don't worry, you are officially apart of the 'I got dragged here by a friend' club. You have the perfect hoodie for it too," Aaron laughs. "Is John a reference or a friend?"

"Friend. We've known each other for years so the hoodie makes a lot of sense. He always drags me to this stuff," I explain.

"It's an awesome hoodie," Eliza compliments.

I talk to them for a while, sharing stories and what not, growing to like Burr a little more despite his hesitancy to preach what he believes. Thankfully though, right as my social energy begins to run low, Herc comes up to me and give me the look. I thank Aaron, Angie, and Eliza for the conversation and walk over to Hercules, then he and I make our way through the party to leave. I see John doing keg stands, smiling and obviously wasted. Lafayette is still tearing up the dance floor, and I gotta admit, he does have a nice ass. I'm thankful to step out of the house and into the fresh night air though. It's darker than it was, but the street is a lot quieter ass Herc and I walk back.

"So, you and John?" He asks, trying to make conversation.

"We're not together," I state.

"Do you want to be?" Herc asks.

"He's my best friend," I tell him, a little shocked at his bluntness.

Herc taps his nose. "Ah, not what I asked."

"I don't know. It would make sense I guess but I just don't think he would want to be with me. I mean, he's ace! I don't really even know what that means! Does he just never want to date anyone?" I say, definitely realizing how confusing my best friend can be when it comes to their personal life.

Herc laughs at me. "It just means he doesn't feel sexual attraction. Honestly, he seems into you."

"He's always like that," I point out.

"He's always into you," Herc counters.

"No I mean since we were kids and since we didn't even know what falling in love was. He has always acted like this. It's not that we went from no homo to cuddling, we've always been like this. We've always been close," I explain.

"Are you into him?" Herc asks me.

I don't answer for a second. "I don't know."

"It's okay to not know," Herc says. "I just think it's important to be able to identify your feelings. Figure stuff out, you know? I didn't know I was in love until after the third time I had sex with Laf. When I was younger I had a lot of trouble identifying how I was feeling and it took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that I was gay. It lead to a lot of conflicted feelings about myself and I struggled a lot will self-love."

"Huh, you're really wise, you know that?" I tell him.

"I just think that the knowledge I've collected in my time should be shared with people. I don't think there's a point to being selfish with your information," Herc tells me. We're back in our dorms and I don't know if he wants to hang out more or not. He looks at me and smiles. "Wanna binge watch Hoarders?"

"Can I bring my laptop? I like to write a lot," I say.

Herc nods. "As long as I can draw."

I smile at him. "Deal."

Hercules and I start out just writing, drawing, and watching Hoarders. But that quickly turns into us talking and watching Hoarders. And that turned into us talking about some of the deepest and darkest secrets that we've never told anyone but are trusting each other to keep. So, by the time Alex and Laf fall through the door, drunk and not exactly balanced, Herc and I have both cried.

"Herc, baby, I want to suck your dick!" Laf exclaims loudly.

"Alex, you're so beautiful," John says, coming over to where I sit on Herc's bed and falling on top of me.

"John," I whine, trying to push him off. Him, being the stronger one, just pins my arms to my side and hugs me.

"Has he always been like that?" Herc asks, looking at me and smiling as he removes Lafayette's makeup.

"Not sober," I mumble, trying to fight my way out of John's iron grip.

"I'll help you in a second just let me get my Laffy Taffy to bed," Herc tells me. He undresses Laf and then provides him with a sweater to wear. He ties Laf's hair up because 'he likes to sleep like that. Says he wakes up sneezing if it's down,' and then tucks Laf in. Meanwhile, John is still hugging me and stroking my arm. Herc walks over and smirks at me, then pulls John off of me.

"No!" John cries. "I want my baby, Alexander!"

"I'm right here," I laugh, standing up. "Thank you, Herc."

"Yeah no problem," Hercules tells me as he passes John over to me. He does weigh a bit more than me, in muscle though. I walk John over to our dorm and then set him down on his bed. I know he'll be uncomfortable and grumpy if he wakes up in these clothes, so I take off his boots, his jeans, and his shirt.

"Wow Alex, if you wanted me you should've just said," John jokes.

"In your dreams," I snort.

John gasps. "How did you know about that?"

I stare at him. "Wow, I'm pretending I never heard that."

"Alex," he says quietly.

"Yes, John?" I reply, putting a tee shirt on him.

"I have to tell you something," he says quietly. It looks kinda serious so I stop what I'm doing and sit on the end of his bed.

"What is it?" I ask gently.

He looks at me and for a second, almost looks as if he's going to speak, but then he shakes his head. "Nothing. I'm just tired."

"Go to sleep then, silly," I say, laughing at him a bit. He pulls me into a long hug and I melt right into it. I love John's hugs. They're always so relaxing. When John releases me he gently kisses my cheek. I could feel his warm breath on my skin and it sent chills down my spine. He smelled a bit like alcohol, but also Old Spice and peppermint, which is what he usually smells like.

"Alexander, you're the closest friend I've got," he tells me, pressing his forehead to mine. "I love you."

"Laurens, I am disgusted with everything in this world but yourself," I whisper to him.

"Sleep with me?" He requests softly. I nod and get up so I can change. I know his eyes are on me as I slip off my jeans and my hoodie. I put on a clean tee shirt and look over at John. He looks so beautiful right now. His hair frames his face, tightly curled and beautiful. His freckles are like stars against the night sky. His lips are soft and plump.

I climb into bed next to him, but instead of our usual position, John wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close to him, so I'm cuddled up to his side. I almost protested, but then I hear his heartbeat right next to my head. A bit fast, but relaxing. So, I get comfortable, I close my eyes, and I fall asleep next to my best friend.


	5. Yes, John does like biology, though the author thinks it's stupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can say this with no regret, because I do, in fact, HATE biology. John Doesn't though

John

The next morning I awoke to nausea and a skull-splitting headache. I rolled onto my stomach so that my face was buried in my pillow. The last thing I remember is looking out into the backyard and seeing Alexander with a few friends. Then I blacked out. I don't remember how I got into my dorm, how I got changed, and I how I got so nicely tucked into bed.

"Good morning sunshine." Alex's voice sounds like music almost. "There's water, coffee, and aspirin on your nightstand."

"What time is it?" I groan.

"Almost ten," he tells me.

"What time did I get home?" I roll on my side so that I'm staring at Alex, sitting at his desk and studying as always.

"Well my little partier, you and Laf got home around three and burst into Herc and Laf's room where I was hanging out. Then you fell on me, wouldn't let go, and called me pretty. After that, we went to our room and you said I was the closest friend you have, you kissed my cheek, and then you insisted that I sleep, not only with you but almost on top of you," Alex says, laughing.

"Shit I did?" I say, sitting up.

"You were hammered though," Alex points out. "Drink some water and take your aspirin. I'm pretty sure you drank straight rubbing alcohol last night."

"I'm sorry dude," I say as I lean against my headboard and sip the water, not quite ready to swallow the aspirin.

"It's okay. At least you weren't like Laf and yelling about how you want to suck dick," Alex tells me. "Was your first college party everything it's cracked up to be?"

"I don't remember," I tell him honestly. "What about you? You dipped pretty early it seemed. I missed you." I don't remember missing him but I probably did.

"Herc and I went back to his place and watched Hoarders for a while," Alex tells me.

I finally work up the courage to swallow the aspirin, then I take a sip of coffee. "That's nice. When am I going to get you to stay at a college party for once?"

"When I don't look over to see you doing a keg stand," Alex tells me, pointing a pencil accusingly at me.

"Wait, so if I stayed sober the entire party, you would stay?" I say, raising my eyebrows.

"Perhaps," he replies.

I smile. "Deal."

He increases his eyebrows in concern. "Wait hold on I didn't mean-"

I cut him off. "No, you said perhaps no take backs."

"Fucking hell Laurens," Alex sighs.

I stand up and stretch a bit. "Did I do anything else weird last night?"

Alex smirks. "Well, you did mention a dream."

I shrug. "Which one?"

Alex chuckles. "Well, I was helping you get into your pajamas and so I had to take off your clothes to get that done. And so you told me if I wanted you so much I should've just said, to which I replied 'in your dreams.'"

I freeze and look at him. I swear to god if my drunk ass told him.

Alex's chuckle turns into almost a laugh. "And then you asked me, 'how did you know about that?' So I think the question is, Lauren's, what did you think I knew about?"

I let out a long loud groan. "Nothing, Alexander."

"No, what was it?" He asks, his eyebrows higher than his standards for himself.

"You don't want to know," I tell him, sipping my coffee. "Don't you have studying to do?"

Alex smirks. "Touche. I'll just have to get you drunk again and ask you then."

I groan as I walk into the bathroom to shower. "I'm never drinking around you again!"

When I'm in the bathroom I slip off my boxers and tee shirt and look at myself in the mirror. I'm definitely looking ragged, but at least it's Saturday. I turn on the shower and step under the cold water. I've never liked hot showers. I'll take them after I drive or something to help relax my muscles a bit, but I'm a bigger fan of cold showers if we're being honest. Growing up in South Carolina, extra heat was not something I needed. Alex, being the Caribbean kid he was, thought South Carolina was, well, not too hot. That's why he sleeps with all the blankets and I sleep with none. He and I have discussed how we like our showers, and while he's not exactly a fan of the colder shower I take, he's not one for hot showers either. He doesn't mind a nice lukewarm shower though.

"Hey John," I hear Alex say. I poke my head out to see Alex still in his boxers and tee shirt, putting toothpaste on his toothbrush.

"Yeah?" I reply, starting to put shampoo in my hair.

"Do you want to do anything today or should we just relax?" Alex asks me.

I tilt my head back to the water so it rinses out the shampoo. "I dunno. Do you want to do anything?"

Alex starts talking but his voice sounds a little weird from the toothbrush in his mouth. He doesn't let anything stop him from talking. "Well, I actually saw something you might like."

My interest isn't quite peaked because Alex has said this about many things. I start to condition my hair and wash my extremities. "Oh? And what would that be Alexander?"

"A lecture, downtown," he tells me.

I roll my eyes. "I hate lectures."

"It's about the effects of pollution on aquatic life," he finishes.

I gasp excitedly. "Wait really? Downtown? When?"

"It's in an hour or so. We can go if you want. It's not really my thing but I'll accompany you if you want." Alex spits out his toothpaste.

I turn off my shower and grab a towel. "I would actually love to go. You don't have to but it would be nice. Oh, my god, this is so exciting. I love my environmental studies class and I have been taking a class about biological oceanography and it's so interesting and cool. How did you find out about this?" I step out of the shower and stand next to him, looking into the mirror and moisturizing my face.

"I was just looking for something to do today online," Alex shrugs.

"That's cool. Okay, I'll wear my turtle shirt," I say excitedly. I walk out into the room and dry off my hair, then slip on a pair of boxers and a pair of slim black jeans. I pull out my old beige tee shirt with a drawing of a turtle on it. Alex got me the shirt about a year ago. I grab a red flannel and slip it over it and then go back into the bathroom to brush my teeth, put on deodorant, all that.

"We should leave soon because it's about a twenty-minute walk and we need to get some food first," Alex says, throwing on a hoodie and some jeans.

"Yeah okay, I'm ready whenever," I tell him. I grab a small notebook so I can take notes, and Alex grabs one too. We slip on our shoes and then prance out the door. I'm feeling very good despite the hangover. I've been in love with aquatic life ever since I can remember. The ocean is just such a mysterious place and I want to discover it. I love discovering the mysteries of the world. The idea of it just interests me so much.

Alex and I exit the campus and begin walking down the streets of New York. It's a bit of a warmer day so I'm glad I'm only wearing a thin flannel that I can take off. But Alex seems hotter. I know he's only wearing a hoodie so the hot air must kill him. He's never minded hanging out with just me in tee shirts, but I'm the only person Alex really trusts. I know he hasn't done anything since that one night we went for a drive, but it still makes me sad that he feels like he has to hide bits and pieces of himself. I've seen the scars his arm adorns, and you can only notice them if you're really looking for them. If he wore tee shirts in public, no one would notice.

"Alex?" I say, nudging him a bit.

"Yeah, John?" He replies, grabbing onto the edge of my flannel as the population of the street grows.

"Why don't you ever wear short sleeves in public?" I ask, knowing he's hot right now.

"You know why," he answers distantly.

"But, like, you know that you can't even see the scars anymore. I can barely see them when I'm looking." I loop my arm around Alex's waist so I don't lose him in the crowd.

He shrugs. "I dunno. I just, I feel like people are looking. And staring. I feel like someone is going to call me out on it or something."

"They won't," I answer firmly. "And if they do, I'll fight them."

Alex shrugs. "Maybe I'll try it one day."

"Hey, we can start small. I'm not saying wear a tee shirt and stand up in front of New York and give a speech. Maybe, I dunno, we can just start out by hanging out with friends. Work up to being comfortable with it," I explain as I direct Alex into a bagel place for breakfast.

"That sounds nice." Alex leans against me while we wait in line.

We order our bagels but instead of eating there, we continue our walk to the place where the lecture will happen. I keep my arm around Alex, making sure he stays with me through the crowds of people.

Honestly, I don't even know what Alex and I count as. I mean, we do a lot more than friends do, but we've never discussed feelings or anything, but it's almost like we don't need to, but at the same time we kinda do. We never really dated anyone else, and we haven't exactly stayed entirely platonic with our actions. But we've never kissed or anything, just cuddling and cheek kisses and hand holding and stuff like that. I don't want to bring it up around him though because I don't know how he feels about me. I don't even know if we're, like, a thing or not. If we are then I'm grateful to say that I've stayed loyal to him, but truthfully I don't know if I'm supposed to or not. Maybe I'll talk to Laugh about this.

"We're here," Alex says, pointing at a large building.

"It's an aquarium!" I cheer. "Oh Alex, after the lecture can we look around? Please?"

Alex smiles and leans his head against my shoulder as we walk. "Yes, of course, we can. I know how much you love this stuff."

We walk into the aquarium and find where the lecture will be taking place. A few people are already there, but Alex and I still find good seats in the middle. He munches on his bagel as he writes in his notebook, probably a detailed essay for professor Washington about why he should let him punch Jefferson every time he opens his mouth. More people file in and then the speaker comes on stage. The lecture lasts about an hour, and I learn a lot of new things. I make sure to keep notes about this because this is one thing that I do really enjoy learning about. I've always been into science and biology and stuff like that. I just think it's interesting because you can figure out how things work. There's no wrong way to figure it out.

Alex, on the other hand, has strived to be more of a numbers and letters guy. He says he likes math and writing because there are rules, there is order. He says science is havoc because you never really know if you're right or wrong, but in math you do. And in writing, you can't estimate a word, grammar, punctuation, and be sort of right. You are either right or wrong. He's not a huge fan of a grey area when it comes to his education.

When the lecture is over, Alex has written about twelve pages in his notebook. He has always written like a bit of a maniac. Even when he was younger. Ever since seventh grade, he's always carried around a notebook and a pencil, his laptop, his phone. It doesn't matter what as long as he can write with it. He's written his way out of detentions, back when I was almost arrested his knowledge of the law came into play so fast that even the police were impressed. He wrote himself into a new life. So I've never felt the need to tell him he does it too much. Because before me, before anything, he had this. And he'll have this until the day he dies.

"That was interesting," Alex tells me as we stand up. There some free drinks and snacks outside the large room we're in so we're making our way over there.

"You don't have to pretend Alex, I know you wrote that entire time. The world could end and you wouldn't notice because you're writing." I laugh and bump him.

"No! Turtles, ate trash at one point, see? I listened." Alex is smiling at me.

"Whatever. Cmon let's go hide finger sandwiches in our pockets because we're poor college students," I laugh. Because Alex and I are, actually, poor college students, we split up and try to stock up on as much food as possible. I create a finger sandwich pyramid on one of the tiny paper plates, so I turn to go show Alex, but what I see strikes jealousy through my heart. A taller guy, pale skin, pretty gold locks, bright blue eyes, flirting with Alex. He's being quite obvious about it too. Standing pretty close, smiling, touching Alex's arm, listening to what Alex has to say. What if this is Alex's type? Tall, white, soft wavy blonde hair, a soft smile, blue eyes. I'm about to sign and turn around when I see Alex's eyes dart to me. He gives me a hopeful look and waves me over. I feel kinda timid as I walk through people to get to Alex and whoever he's talking to.

"Sam, this is John," Alex says, tugging me a bit closer to him by my flannel. I switch which hand I'm holding my plate in and place my arm around Alex, putting an end to whatever space was between us before.

"Hi," I say, smiling proudly as Alex leans his head against me a bit.

"Hey," the guy, Sam says, his face turn a bit red as I make a show to lower my hand onto Alex's hip a bit.

"John, do you wanna go walk around and see the turtles?" Alex asks me.

I nod and smile. "Always."

Alex turns back to Sam. "It was nice meeting you. See you around."

Sam nods and then we leave him in the dust. I don't ask Alex about him calling me over, or making quite a show that we were close, I just keep my arm around him and eat finger sandwiches off my plate with my mouth. We start with the little fish, me identifying almost all of them without needing to read the signs. Then the bigger ones. We go through a hallway and Alex screams when a shark comes right up to the glass. Usually, Alex is the one talking, and I am the one listening. But, when we're at the ocean, when we're at an aquarium, he stays quiet while I go on and on about the animals.

"There the turtle exhibit!" I squeal, pulling Alex towards a sign.

The moment we enter the room I don't shut up. I'm pointing out every single species, talking about which ones are endangered and which ones aren't, their diet types, their personalities. Alex leans against me as I point out which ones are the dominate turtles and which ones aren't.

"Do you work here?" A girl in a uniform asks.

"Oh no, I just like the animals," I tell her.

She cocks her head a bit. "Well, if you ever need a part-time job, the pay here is great and there are good benefits."

I smile. "I'll check it out."

Alex nudges me when she walks away. "Workingman."

"I know right," I reply. We finally make it out of the turtle exhibit and into a dark quiet part. Alex and I take a rest on a bench in front of a large window that shows us into a tank full of just little fish and what not. I sit back and stare at the bustling aquatic life goes by. It's relaxing to watch. I always feel a lot calmer when I come out of an aquarium because I just feel a lot more welcomed. Like I know everything about the animals, and it's nice.

"John?" Alex asks softly, looking at me.

"Yes?" I reply.

"Last night you were going to tell me something, do you remember what it was?" Alex rests his head on my shoulder. I do. I was going to tell him that I was into him. I was going to tell him I want to hold his hands and call him mine. But instead, I told him he was my closest friend. That's what I tell him when I want to tell him I love him.

But Alex was expecting an answer. So I say, "no." Like a liar.

"I've learned a lot about you in the years I've known you, John. You like turtles, your favorite color is powder blue, you like mushrooms and artichoke hearts on your pizza, and your voice raises two octaves and wavers a bit when you're lying," Alex explains to me.

I sigh. "Not today?"

Alex nods and brushes a bit of my unruly hair behind my ear. "Mkay."

When I'm finally done with the aquarium, Alex and I start walking home. Alex has an assortment of cookies and other appetizers shoved into his hoodie pocket so we can save some money and not order Chinese takeout again. Alex says it's brain fuel for studying, but I know he just likes the cookies.


	6. Cabinet battles, guys doing guy things, and gay confusion

/John/

I feel like a housewife as I walk through the halls of this college to bring Alex his coffee. I wasn't feeling well this morning so I decided to skip a morning class and just watch some Bob Ross and relax. But that was greatly interrupted when I realized that my small sleep deprived best friend was missing both his caffeine and his hug. So, I walk through the halls on this cold early September morning until I find professor Washington's class. At this point in time, I had already met professor Washington while walking Alex to class one morning. He was kind but also firm and very collected, which was exactly the kind of teacher Alex needed. Alex never did will with strict or slack teachers, but he did just fine with a good medium. So, when I entered Washington's class quietly and held my finger to my lips while maintaining eye contact with him, he understood and looked back at Alex and Jefferson, who were madly debating up front.

"Immigration is turning this country into a mess. Immigrants are uneducated, unskilled, and often times violent. We only have so many resources, we can't share them with everyone. And Alex suggests giving both legal and illegal immigrants help and wealth? Hm, now I wonder who that benefits? Oh, the very seat where Hamilton sits," Jefferson explains to the class.

"Not true," Alex snaps.

Jefferson chuckles. "Oh, if the shoe fits wear it. If these people are in need, why should America bear it? We figured our way of life out I'm afraid. We took steps to make this better ground, they just want to take our jobs and our livelihood. Your immigration plan is outrageous and honestly, too many pages to even understand. Stand with me, in America. These are our jobs, our lives. I rest my case."

Washington sighs. "Thank you, Jefferson. Hamilton, your response."

"Thomas, that was a real nice declaration, welcome to present, we are trying to create a free country. Would you like to join us? Or stay shut up doing whatever the hell it is you do down in Virginia? If we help the immigrants we can create treaties with countries much more easily and it makes America seem less hostile. How do you not get it? If we're kind and welcoming, the nation gets a boost, you'd rather give it a sedative. It's truly rich to hear you talking about our jobs. Hey neighbor, prisons are full of slave labor. We obviously need immigrants to take those jobs. They plant seeds and harvest in the south, so you can eat your fruit and keep ranting, as long as you know who's doing the planting. And another thing, don't lecture me about how immigrants act. You're debating with one right now and I made it here on a scholarship, did you? You think it was easy to come to America? The abuses I suffered were great and I would've killed for someone in government to stand up for me." Hamilton turns to the class. "Jefferson has no idea what it's like to be an immigrant. He does not know the struggle. His argument is in worse shape than our foreign aid is in." He looks at Jefferson. "You don't care about these people, you couldn't get a damn. Hey baby, turn around, bend over, I'll show you where my shoe fits."

"Alex!" Washington says loudly.

Alex smirks. "Professor, I rest my case."

I let out a chuckle and Alex looks over and smiles at me. I wave to him and hold up his coffee and a protein bar I grabbed for him since he might get hungry. Washington dismisses the boys and Alex walks over to me while Jefferson walks to someone else, grumbling under his breath. Washington starts talking about voting on the debates but Alex is too focused on me.

"Did you like it?" He asks.

"The debate?" I try to clarify.

Alex nods, humming lightly.

"I think you made a very compelling argument but got a little sidetracked at the end and were focused more on attacking Jefferson than talking about immigration. But I liked it," I explain. When Alex asks me for my opinion on something, it means he genuinely wants it, and I will give it to him straight up. But I've never disliked anything he does, I just see errors sometimes. He always accepts critique from me very graciously though. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" Alex asks me.

"How did you know Jefferson didn't get in with a scholarship?"

Alex smiles. "I figured Jefferson would try to hit me hard by talking poorly about immigrants. He'd try to trip me up. So, I did a little asking about him and learned a few things. He tried to get in on a scholarship by basically writing a new declaration of independence. It was, average. Nothing like what I wrote."

I smile and nod. "Nothing like what you wrote."

"Hamilton? Could we get back to politics please?" A voice calls out.

"Madison take a fucking chill pill," Alex says back.

"Language," Washington butts in.

"Read this. It's my immigration plan," Alex, says, shoving papers into my hands. He takes the coffee and energy bar without even asking if they're his and then saunters back to his seat. "Is it time to vote between me and Jefferdick?"

I laugh and walk out of the classroom, a stack of twenty or so double-sided sheets of paper in my hand. Alexander never fails to immerse me in his writing. I hang off of every word, trying to read more than is physically possible. Alex has managed to peak my interest to a point where even the slight dyslexia I adorn can't stop me from sitting under a tree on campus, despite the biting air, and immersing myself into his writings.

I read for a while, so focused on his words, that I don't hear Herc's voice until he taps me on the shoulder. I jump about a foot in the air, and grip the papers tightly, thankfully not flinging them out of my hand and losing the order of Alex's hard work. I look up to see Herc, a bandana around his head, some dark ripped jeans on, as well as a white tee shirt and a dark blue hoodie over that. He looks entertained by the start he gave me.

"John, my friend, what has you so engrossed?" He asks, sitting next to me. I don't know how the man is surviving in this cold weather with a just a hoodie, but I decide against asking, due to the fact that he may actually be used to this colder weather while I am not.

"Oh, Alex wrote up an immigration policy," I say.

"Don't you just love it when your friends create laws in their free time?" Herc jokes. "On a more serious note though I'll have to read it sometime."

I smile. "So what are you doing out and about?"

Herc shrugs. "Nothing much. Looking for a friend. But it seems I just found one."

"Glad I could be of service." I set down the papers and rest my hand on them so they don't blow away.

"Is something on your mind?" He asks me.

"What did you, how, what?" I ask, knowing I had been thinking about my Alex dilemma for the past week.

"I'm black." Herc shrugs. "I know things."

I sigh. "Alex is on my mind."

"What about Alex?" He smirks, pushing my shoulder a bit.

"I don't know. I don't know where I stand with him. Like, we act like a couple but at the same time, we don't. It's weird and confusing but I don't want to talk to him about it because what if he considers it a normal friend thing and suddenly I'm saying 'hey I like ur dick my friend' and he isn't even into me in the slightest?" I'm ranting at this point but I don't care.

"Well, if he isn't then he isn't and you move on," Herc tells me.

"But what if things get awkward between us?" I ask.

He smiles. "If you two are really good friends, things won't get awkward. But you should talk to him about this. What if you two are actually meant to form something really good and you're just holding each other back from a great relationship?"

"But what if we break up?" I ask.

"Then you break up," Herc answers simply.

"It's not that simple," I shoot back. "Alex and I, we've just, we've known each other for years. And I'm scared that breaking up with him would end something very pure that we had. We are so close and we both love each other so much."

"Have you and Alex ever stopped being friends? Like, in the years you've been friends, have you ever stopped?" Hercules asks me, pulling up some dead grass.

I shake my head. "No. We care about our friendship too much."

"So who's to say your relationship will be any different? And anyway, if you date and just find it awkward, then you can break up and just be those two best friends who used to date. I've seen it before. John, you're never going to get anywhere if you just wait for it," Hercules tells me.

I sigh and run my hand through my hair. "I need to think about all of this. Thank you though, Herc. I really needed some advice."

Herc smiles. "Yeah, no problem. Shouldn't you be in class?"

I shrug. "I wasn't feeling well so I decided to skip my first one. My next one is in about an hour so really I just want to stay mellow, you feel? Alex may be a workaholic but I am not."

Herc nods. "Understandable. My class though is in ten minutes so I fear I must be off. Go relax. Talk later. Tread carefully good soldier, these waters are full of snakes."

"Bye," I say softly and he gets up and walks away. I flip back to the spot I was reading in Alex's foreign policy and continue. By the end, I'm shocked. Alex is truly a brilliant writer. He belongs in law. He wrote this so beautifully, embellishing every detail, lacing elegance and eloquence through each line. His words are like a pint of beer sliding down your throat on a summer day. I am shocked that my best friend is such a talented writer and a debtor.

When I am finished I make my way back to my dorm and change out of my sweatpants and hoodie I was wearing and put on a pair of skinny jeans and a tee shirt with a Homer Simpson on it saying 'get fucked.' I still have time so I lie down on my bed and watch Bob Ross talk about happy trees and whatnot until class.

My day goes by quickly with nothing too remarkable to comment on. And soon enough I'm back at my dorm listening to Alex type away on his laptop. I'm not quite asleep but I'm not quite awake either. I'm just in a bit of a haze. I can tell I'm gonna be a full-blown Ebola patient by tomorrow, despite any medicine Alex gives me.

"Johnny boy," Alex sings lightly.

"Hm?" I hum from the pillow.

"You should email your teachers and tell them you won't be in class tomorrow," Alex says. "It's important they know so they can tell you what to study and what their learning about."

I groan. "It's too much work."

"C'mon John, you gotta do it," Alex tells me.

I roll my eyes but get out my computer and send an email to my professors. "Alex."

"Yes?"

"Entertain me," I state.

"What would you like me to do?" Alex says, not looking up from his computer.

"I don't know. What entertains me?" I hug a pillow and stare with big doe eyes up at Alex.

He sighs and finally spins to look at me in his chair. "Would you like to style my hair while I study, John?"

I smile very big and so he takes his laptop and sits down, his back leaning against my bed. I sit up, wrap a blanket around me, and begin to dutch braid Alex's hair. When it's done Alex looks like a basic white girl. Alex realizes what I've done and closes his laptop, then jumps on me and starts tickling me. I'm already laughing at how ridiculous he looks, so when his fingers start to dance across my ribs, I'm losing it. Alex is on top of me, cursing me out and laughing as I try to wriggle out of his arms. Eventually, he stops though. He props himself up on his elbows and looks at my face, smiling. My arms are wrapped around his neck, bringing his head closer than it has to be.

"What's popping galaxy boy?" Alex says quietly. Galaxy boy is a nickname I earned the summer I gained most my freckles. I was working outside so I soaked up a lot of sun, and I went from a couple here and there to basically a milky way of freckles.

"Not much," I whisper. Alex lowers his face a bit more and the tip of his nose brushes mine. I smile and sigh, letting both my hands trail down to his hips. His body is warm against me, and his hands have found their way to my cheeks. My eyes are half closed as are his, and his face is moving closer. I don't really know what our end game is, but any chances of it are ruined when Lafayette and Herc come through the door. Alex jumps at the sound and is quickly off me and against the wall, his hand to his chest, his breath heavy.

"What the hell!" He yells out of fright.

"Damn, sorry, didn't know y'all were screwing," Laf laughs.

I sit up, grumbling. "We weren't screwing."

"Alex, dude, your fucking hair," Herc says, plopping himself on Alex's desk.

Alex laughs and pulls out the hair ties I put in. "Johnny boy was bored." He shakes out the braids and his hair falls long and wavy to his shoulders. It's so pretty and soft. He's quick to tie it back up though in just a ponytail. "So what do you guys want?"

Laf smiles. "We want to play a game. You are our friends now, whether you like it or not, and we wish to know you better, and for you to know us better. So cuddle up, we're gonna be here for a bit."

"Couldn't have picked a better time!" I say, sitting down on the floor. Alex grabs a throw blanket and sits next to me, leaning gently against me.

"Okay, let's see. Um, first memory? We'll just go around. John, you first," Herc tells me.

I think for a second. "Uh, I think it was when I was six, I got lost in the store around Christmas and one of the creepy mall Santas chased after to me to try to help me find my mom and ever since then I've hated Santa. I get nightmares sometimes still."

Alex smiles. "He does. He'll wake up yelling 'no Santa! I don't want your help!' and it's funny as fuck."

"It's not funny! I was scared!" I defend.

Herc turns to Alex. "What about you kid?"

Alex shrugs and chuckles. "Uh, it was of my dad. It was him yelling at me for spilling something. I don't remember when or what, but that was it."

"Damn Alex. Mine was my mom hitting me over the head with a loaf of bread. Like a whole fucking baguette. It broke. It was like, three days old and the crazy bitch broke it over my head. It hurt like a fucker," Laf says, laughing.

Herc thinks for a second. "Mine was fourth of July. I was with my dad, we were in New York, and we were watching the fireworks. It was really pretty. I guess it's why, despite all the sketchy things that have been going on, I've stayed loyal to America. For nights like those."

"Wow Herc way to get all mushy on us," Alex laughs.

"At least I'm not having nightmares about Santa," Herc shoots back, laughing.

"Whatever! He was totally creepy," I say.

"Okay, next question. First kiss? I wanna start because I like this story," Lafayette says. "I was fifteen, and I got sent to bible camp by my crazy mom because apparently, I was too feminine? I don't know how she got that, I'm obviously the most masculine person here."

I look Laf up and down. He still has on his makeup for the day and he's wearing short sleep shorts and a grey crop top. His hair is up in a bit of a messy bun. He is obviously the poster child for masculinity. So manly. Much testosterone.

"Anyway, so I went and there was this counselor..." Laf trails off.

"No fucking way, what?" Alex says.

"Well, at first it was like, 'god loves you if you're gay' and I was rolling with it. He was cute, and so when he snuck me out for a drive one night, I wasn't hesitant to go. He was seventeen, and what started as a small makeout session ended with me losing my virginity in the back of a pickup truck at bible camp." Laf snorts as his face turns red. Herc just looks really done with him.

"Was that the last time?" I ask.

Laf shrugs. "It became a pass time."

"You hooked up with him more?" Alex cries out.

"The camp was all summer! Have you ever been fucked while holding onto the crucifix? It's magnificent. God had blessed me in more ways than one that night," Laf says. At this point, Hercules is bright red and looking ready to just go home. "But," Laf continues. "It wasn't until I met my Herc that I actually felt love when having sex. And that's saying something because I was a slut before I met him. Seriously I would've spread my legs for anything with a pulse."

"Thank you Laf that was wonderful to imagine I'm never looking at your childhood pictures the same. I'm just gonna think of them as pre dick or post dick," Herc says, sighing heavily. "Now, I am a firm believer that your first doesn't count if you don't want it to, so my first kiss was with Lafayette. It's not like I just picked a new first every time I got with someone, I just decided Laf was worthy of my first. I had been kissed before, but I never kissed back, so it didn't count. Anyway, Laf and I were at this french bookshop and we were sitting with each other on the floor and he was reading to me in French. Now, I don't understand the language for the most part, but I liked the way his voice sounded when he spoke in French."

"It's true," Laf confirms. "If I want to have sex I just have to speak French to him. It doesn't even matter what I'm saying. One time I told him that I ate dog food when I was a kid and he told me how hot I sounded."

"Oh my god, Laf! Let me tell a story! And please do not tell me what you actually say in French when we're fucking!" Herc is beyond exasperated. "Anyways, so he was reading and because I'm a punk ass American I started to kiss his neck. He likes it when I kiss his neck so he was stuttering quite a lot as he read. Then finally he just said fuck it, dropped the book, and kissed me. I have been in quite a few awkward situations, but nothing like a librarian coming around the corner to see someone grinding on you while you make out."

"Oh my god you guys are idiots," Alex says.

"Well, what about you, Hamilton?" Lafayette smirks.

Alex shrugs. "Nope."

Herc looks at me. "John?"

I shake my head. "Nah."

"Neither of you have ever kissed anyone?" Lafayette seems almost lost for words.

"Why is that such a big deal?" Alex asks.

"Because it's like, it's special and cute and sloppy and funny and a story to tell," Herc explains, petting Lafayette's hair.

Alex shrugs. "The right person just has never wanted to kiss me."

"You guys are weird," Hercules huffs. "Next question. Sexuality and how you came out."

"I'll go!" Alex chimes. "Uh, I was fourteen and I was reading a book and I basically learned what bisexuality was from it. And so I was sort of like 'well, when I jerk off I think of guys and girls, so... I guess I'm bi. I told John via cupcake."

"It's true. He gave me a ginger cupcake, my favorite, and it just said 'hi, I'm bi' in the frosting. I didn't give a shit I was just happy about the cupcake," I explain. "I mean I gave a shit that he was coming out and stuff I just didn't care that he was bi or see him any differently or anything."

"I never really came out to anyone else, so yeah, that's my coming out story. It's not too interesting but it's definitely my own," Alex says, smiling.

"My coming out story is a lot different," I explain. "I'm ace, and from the beginning, I kinda thought I was like, broken or something. Like, I see people in romantic ways and sensual ways, just not sexual ways. It's not that I don't want to have sex, I do, believe me, I just don't really see people sexually. Anyway, I used one of those Snapchat stickers of my face and put it on a card and sent it to Alex and said 'I'm the ace of spades, and of your life.' And that's how I did it. I came out to my best friend through a pun on Snapchat while he was fifteen feet away from me."

"Wow, nice going John," Herc teases. "I can't say I was much better though. Um, I guess I came out to my dad first and that was really my big coming out story. I was seventeen, so Laf was nowhere near in the picture. Um, I don't know I had started feeling attraction towards other men when I was fourteen and it took me three years to figure out why and to come to terms with it. My family never really talked about it so I guess I didn't really know about it. Anyway, I finally realized what my deal was and I was like, petrified. Now, at the time, my dad was my best friend. He still is really. So, I came to him one night, crying and asking him to forgive me and asking God to forgive me. He raised me a Christian and I have remained that way through my life. I eventually told my dad, after about half an hour of me crying, that I was gay. His first instinct was to hug me. He hugged me until I stopped sobbing and then he held my face in his hands and looked me in the eye and said 'my boy, I love you no matter what. You are my son. You need not ask for forgiveness for this, because it is not wrong. You don't need to ask God for forgiveness either. He loves you. He made you this way for a reason.' And I realized that I was always going to have love from my family and God. And I was glad for that."


	7. Meet me inside, son

Alex

"What about you Laf? What's your coming out story?" I ask, wrapping the blanket I have around John too so our shoulders are directly touching. John reaches down under the blanket and places his hand on my thigh. His touch is soft and comforting.

Laf smiles. "Well, when I got sent to bible camp, my mom didn't know I was gay, she just thought I was feminine. So I come back from bible camp, ready to spread my legs to anyone. Now, it might be something in the water but France is full of bisexual or gay men. Like seriously I was getting so much dick that I almost changed my name to Moby. I didn't exactly come out to my mom though. I just thought she was out shopping. I was fifteen and I was fucking... God, what was his name? Mark? Matt? Whatever, anyway, I was fucking someone and we were kinda going at it because, well, horny kids. So picture this, I'm on my hands and knees, this guy is pounding into me-"

Herc cuts him off. "Some of us don't want to picture that."

Laf laughs. "Anyway, my mom walks in right as I jizz on my sheets. Now, this is humiliating because she doesn't let us get dressed or even let the guy take his dick out of me before she starts yelling. The guy, lucky enough, held up a blanket so I could get off of him and like, wrap a sheet around myself. My mom kicked me out after that, and I lived with my bisexual transgender aunt who works at a sex shop."

"Jesus Laf, your life sounds like a Tumblr post," I point out.

Laf smiles and leans against Herc. "Yeah, I know. Next question, first car accident?"

I raise his hand. "Laurens and I share the same one."

Herc looks confused.

"We were both in the car when it happened. I was the one driving and Alex was in the passenger seat," John clarifies.

"It was late, and John and I were like, driving back from some party. I don't remember which one," I start.

"It was Amanda's party, I remember because the car smells like incense because we smelt like incense because her house does, and the cop thought we were smoking something in there. Then he checked us and checked the car and looked at our pupils and what not and realized it was just how we smelt," John reminisces.

"Anyway, so we were driving back, and it's kinda rainy out so the roads are slick, but John was being real careful. The accident wasn't his fault at all, he actually wasn't doing anything illegal. So, suddenly, this drunk redneck comes barreling down the road and slams into us. Both of our cars are spinning, John has reached over and his holding me to my seat with his arm, I'm screaming, we hit the car again and go off the road into the ditch. The car flips but thankfully we can get out through the back door. It's raining, I'm crying, John is pissed that his car just got wrecked, both of us are bleeding a little bit, and suddenly this punk ass drunk stumbles out of his car, which is practically fine by the way, and starts yelling at us. Calling us the N-word, saying we ruined his car. He's obviously at least in his forties and he's letting go some of the worst abuses he can onto these two scrawny teenage boys."

John cuts me off. "You were scrawny."

I nod and roll my eyes. "Yes, I was scrawny, John was not. Anyway, finally the police show up and at this point, we're soaked, we're cold, our car is wrecked, we have no phone or anything, and we just want to go home. A cop tells us he's going to take us into custody. Now, this is after the incense and everything. Me, being the aspiring lawyer, would not let John surrender or anything, and I probably argued with this six foot five two hundred and fifty pound cop for a solid hour about how he had no grounds and the driver hit us and we have done nothing illegal and proper procedure is to help us call our parents and get home. Finally, they give up, call John's mom, and John and I are taken home. His mom was pissed about everything that went down with the police and driver and so she tried to press charges but, you know, black woman against a white man in the south? Not exactly going to get the best odds of winning."

Herc looked shocked. "I've never actually experienced racism like that."

"That's not even the worst time. One time John got kicked out of a gas station for quote on quote, looking suspicious. I love the guy to death but he has the persona of a teddy bear," I state, smiling.

"Don't forget they wrote 'go back to your country' and then the n-word on your locker in sharpie one morning," John reminds me.

I sigh, smiling wistfully. "Ah, high school, the worst years of my life." I look over to Laf. "What about you? What's your first car accident?"

Laf smiles. "I drove through a mini-golf course and crashed into the windmill."

I'm shocked. "No offense but that doesn't sound like an accident."

Lafayette cracks a smile. "Legally it was an accident, however, I pulled that off. But in real life, I was just mad at someone who worked there."

"You convinced them that it was an accident?" John looks shocked.

"Pretty sure I hooked up with one of them. Don't remember who though," Laf says, laughing.

Herc rolls his eyes and kisses the top of Laf head. "I have never been in a car accident because I am not a psycho who drives through mini-golf courses. What's your favorite memory in your hometown?"

Laf raises his hand. "Okay so we kinda have a French fourth of July and it's super cool so of course, I dressed up in booty shorts with the French flag design and then no shirt, but I did have suspenders. And I was a pole dancer."

"You were a what," Herc says.

Laf shrugs. "A few of my friends came to me and asked if I wanted to do it so I said yes. It was fun, I made money, and I got to dress how I would like to dress in public. They called me glitter tits."

"Glitter tits should show me if he's still got it later," Herc says, smiling.

"Hey! Friends present!" John says loudly.

Herc holds up his hands in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. What's your favorite memory?"

John thinks for a second. "Getting drunk with Alex and then skinny dipping in a hotel pool. Someone eventually called the cops but we just ran like our lives depended on it. Made it back to my house and were in bed watching a movie before they even knocked. My mom knew nothing about us going out and showed the cops where we were, in bed, with a movie, half asleep. It was amazing. Alex was such a kid about it too he was squealing and laughing and he was such a funny drunk."

"Whatever," I say, pushing his shoulder. "My favorite would have to be when John and I skipped class to nap but we ended up reenacting Romeo and Juliet without a script. We weren't too far off really. John makes a very nice Romeo."

"Gay, tell me when one of you takes your pants off," Herc says. "My favorite memory would have to be getting lost in New York. I was like, twelve though, so it wasn't a big deal, but I just walked around alone for a while, thought about things, drew, you know, kid stuff."

After a while of talking, a couple confessions, and Laf talking about some guys dick for a solid ten minutes, Herc and Laf decide to retire, leaving John and me alone again. We're still on the floor, John's hand is still on my thigh, my head is still on his shoulder. I never really gave much thought to our relationship. I just kinda figured it was an unspoken thing. More than friends, not quite dating, a nice median. I don't think he's into me enough to date though, I think we're both just kinda lonely.

"We should get to sleep," John says.

"I have to study," I tell him.

John groans. "C'mon, I'm sick, humor me and come to bed at a normal time."

I sigh and press a gentle kiss to his shoulder. "Fine."

He smiles happily and we both crawl into bed. I nuzzle up to John, resting my face in the crook of his neck. He pulls me a bit closer to him and I place my hand against his heart. It's beating faster than usual, but I figure it's just circumstance. John sighs happily as his thumb light traces circles on my hip, making me shiver. He has a bit of an effect on me, where even his touch can freeze me up for a second. John would throw me off in a debate in seconds.

"Goodnight Alexander," he whispers sweetly.

"Goodnight John," I say, my lips brushing his neck. I hear him sigh deeply and then I close my eyes, happy to sleep in his arms.

I wake up the next morning before him, like always. I take my shower, sip my coffee, write, do a bit of online shopping, trying to find a gift early for John's birthday. Nineteen, wow, he's so old. I'm only like, three months younger, but still, old. John turned eighteen before me, so if you think for a second he wasn't sneaking me into NR movies and sex shops, then you are wrong. The first time I ever saw a dildo was with John. We couldn't keep it together and eventually were asked to leave though.

I see a few things on Amazon that he might like. A book with art from people like Picasso, Andy Warhol, as well as propaganda and all that stuff. He's really into art and one of the things on his bucket list is to go to all the art museums here. There's like, a hundred, but he still wants to see all of them. For his birthday I want to take him to the Museum Of Modern Art and then walk around time square until the sun rises and we can eat pizza all night. I see another thing on Amazon, a vintage style anti-Trump poster, so I add that to my cart too.

Finally, around seven, I hear John awake. I look over and I'm about to drag him about of bed but then I see how sick he looks. He looks up at me through messy hair and groans. I stand up and run my hand carefully through his hair, pushing it away from his face, then I rest the back of my hand on his forehead. He feels hot.

"Aw, Johnny boy, you got a fever. I'll get you some medicine mkay? Rest up today, try to take a shower or a bath, I'll try to check on you between classes, you'll feel better tomorrow," I say. I find some Tylenol and give it to him, then put some cough drops, Theraflu, and more Tylenol on his nightstand.

"Alex," he groans.

"Yes?" I say sweetly.

"I feel like a garbage boy," he mumbles. I look at the clock, realizing that I have about fifteen minutes before I leave, so I climb into bed next to him and play with his hair. He groans and rests his head against my chest. "Recite a law to me or something. A declaration. Whatever."

I chuckle. "When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to separation." I continue which my small speech, a quote from a rather messy declaration. When I finish, John is once again asleep, so I slip away to get to class. On my way there, I encounter a rather annoying company.

"Alex, where's your little man toy?" Says an almost nasally voice.

"Thomas, I could ask you the same." I turn to him, venom on my lips. "Is little baby Madison feeling icky today?"

Suddenly Thomas' teasing face turns hard. He walks up to me and shoves me, hard. "Don't talk about him like that."

I don't know why Jefferson is so defensive all of the sudden, but I'm not about to stand down to this purple fucker. "Don't tell me what to do." I shove him back. "I'll say whatever I damn please about Madison. He's a pussy and it seems so are you."

Jefferson shoves me, hard, and I almost fall backward. "Shut the fuck up Alex and keep your head out of things that it doesn't belong is."

"At least I keep my head out of my ass," I comment. Jefferson looks ready to beat the shit out of me, but then we hear a voice.

"Alex! Thomas! Enough!" Professor Washington is walking quickly towards us.

"It's his fault!" Jefferson says.

"How is it my fault?" I shoot back. "You're the one who shoved me."

"You're the one who brought up Madison being sick," Jefferson says.

"Jesus he's not in class I just figured. John is sick too, there's something going around," I state, scrunching my nose in disgust. Thomas gets a different look on his face, one of confusion, as if he's almost unsure of what I mean.

"Jefferson, go to class and tell the students I'll be a bit late. Alexander, walk with me," Washington says. Jefferson storms off and Washington and I sit down on a bench. "Alex, do you know anything about James Madison's condition?"

I shake my head, and suddenly get a sickening feeling of guilt in my gut.

"When he was born, doctors quickly realized he had a very weak immune system. Weak enough to where a cold could put him in the hospital for a solid week. Jefferson met Madison when they were both very young and since then Jefferson has watched over Madison. I understand you boys fight, believe me. The moment I read some of your more opinionated writings I knew that I was in for a long exasperating year."

"He just doesn't know immigrant life at all and he has the nerve to-"

Washington holds up his hand. "Alexander."

I bow my head. "Sorry."

Washington places his hand on my shoulder. "I understand you boys are as good as opposites, but if you are going to fight with him, fight fairly. Do not kill him with what he cannot control, it's bad debate skills. If you would like to attack him for his less than fair immigration opinions, I will be happy to hold an open debate, but leave Madison out of it."

I nod. "I'm sorry sir. I really didn't know."

"It's okay Alex. I would suggest apologizing to Jefferson, you two have enough reasons to hate each other, I don't think another is needed," he replies.

I nod and we stand up, then walk to his class. Jefferson is sitting alone in the back, looking mad and hurt. He's furiously typing on his phone, to who I assume to be Madison. I get a questioning look from Aaron, Laf, and Angie when I walk past them and up to where Jefferson is. He whips his head up at me and oh man, if looks could kill, I would be lying here coughing up my own heart by now.

"Thomas," I start.

"What do you want Alex?" He snaps.

I sigh. "I came to apologize. I had no idea what was going on with Madison and I didn't understand it was a touchy subject for you. I overstepped a boundary."

"Oh so what, we're all buddy-buddy now? You apologized and now we can have a fucking tea party?" Jefferson says, still mad.

I shake my head. "I still think you're an arrogant self-righteous prick with no regard for other people, but that doesn't mean I can't apologize for going too far."

Thomas looks at me, unsure of how to take this.

I hold out my hand. "Rivals?"

He smiles, letting out a small laugh and nods his head, shaking my hand. "Rivals."

I walk down and go sit next to Angelica. "Hey, guys."

Aaron cocks his head at me. "What was that about?"

I shrugged. "I said something I shouldn't have. I apologized. I may be a dick but I'm not an asshole."

The class goes by, Jefferson and I arguing as usual, and now I'm sprinting back to my dorm to check on John and then make it to my next class. I burst through the door to see him in bed watching his computer screen. It takes merely a second for me to hear Bob Ross, talking about happy little trees. John doesn't paint much really, he's always been more of a sketcher. But, from his domain, piled with blankets, his hair tied into a high bun, he looks at me and smiles.

"Alex," he says, his throat a bit froggy.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" I ask. I kneel down and place my hand on his forehead. He feels a bit less hot but still in fever territory.

"Still ugh," he tells me.

"Okay I have to bolt to class but I'll check on you every hour or two. Call or text if you need anything. I'll bring you some food after class gets out. Can I do anything right now?" I start to fret over John's needs. Sometimes when he gets sick I worry a little too much but I just get anxiety wondering if he's okay or not.

"Alexander," he says, drawing my focus from the eight different things I was thinking about to just him. "I am perfectly fine. You have done everything I could ask for. I'll text you if I need anything, I promise. Now go, get to your writing class. Hurry."

"Okay. I'll be home soon." I'm quick to press a kiss to his forehead without thinking, then bolt out of there and sprint to my next class. I make it, barely, in time and plop down in a seat near the back. I pull out my laptop and notebook and begin taking notes as the teacher starts talking. She hasn't quite yet gotten to what she has written on the board but I write it down anyway and leave room for further explanation.

My day consists of me sprinting between my dorms and my classes, checking on John, at one point buying Gatorade for him, and taking notes. It's rushed, but soon I'm quickly headed back to the dorm, tomato soup, and a grilled cheese from the cafeteria for John and some pizza for me. John is in the shower when I get back so I set his food down on his bed and begin working on homework from my statistics class. I take bites of my pizza as I focus on the numbers. John steps out of the shower and I barely say a hello as I rapidly solve the problems on the paper. Finally though, after forgetting I still have pizza and it going cold, I finish my work. I look up at John, who is eating his soup and watching Bob Ross with headphones.

"John, how are you feeling?" I say.

John pauses his show and looks up at me. "What?"

"How are you feeling?" I repeat.

He shrugs. "Better. Not the best, but better."

I smile and hold up my statistics homework. It almost looks like just another language. "Look I did a smart math thing and I'm like, sort of confident in the idea that I did well on it. You know? Like when you do homework and for once you think you did it right?"

John nods. "I do Alex, and it looks very good. Now please come to relax with me."

"I have some work to do," I say, looking back at my desk.

He sighs. "You've been doing work all day. Take a break. Finish your pizza, please?"

I smile and get up, walking over to where he is. He scootches over to make room for me and I sit down next to him, smiling. My pizza, while not as piping hot and fresh as it used to be, is good and satisfying. John unplugs his headphones from his computer and opens Netflix in a new tab.

"We can keep watching Bobby Ross," I point out, knowing how much it relaxes him.

He shrugs. "I've been watching him all day. I want to watch something we both like anyway. Anything good on Netflix?"

After a while, we both decide on some old sitcom about teens who smoke weed. It's funny and we find ourselves getting lost in it. John has an assortment of snacks hidden in his bed, so after some searching, I pull out a box of Cheez-Its for us. Finally, at eleven, John decides it's time for him to retire, so I get up and go sit back at my desk, ready to study.

"Alexander," he groans.

"You can't talk me out of it this time. Just an hour, I promise," I tell him.

"At least hug me goodnight," he mumbles, pouting. I sigh and stand up, walk over to him, and kiss his head.

"Goodnight my dearest, Laurens," I whisper.

"Goodnight Alexander," John replies. I run my hand through his hand and then make my way back to my desk. I don't use my large lamp since it's bright, but instead, I use a little reading lamp, hopefully not disrupting John's rest. It's a bit difficult since I have to move it with me to take notes, but for John? It's worth it.

I told him I would only study for an hour. I told him I would go to bed after that. So I find myself feeling guilty as I look out the window at four thirty am, watching the sunrise. John is still asleep. All through the night I listen to John's little snorts and snores, and his occasional mumbles. At one point he gets up to pee, but he either doesn't see me or thinks he's dreaming because he says nothing as he walks by me both times and falls asleep instantly. But I do feel bad for staying up, I did tell him I'd only be an hour. But, instead, I pulled my first all-nighter in college. But I took many diligent notes and learned many things.

Around five, after I've showered and packed my stuff, I climb into bed with John and read using the morning light. John can somehow sense me and cuddles up to me instantly. I smile at the boy and continue my book about how different types of government work. Politics has always interested me. As a kid, I was not immune to how corrupt government and inhumane immigration affected me. I was brought into the office at fourteen and was questioned by border officers for three hours. I eventually started crying but they wouldn't let me go until John basically fought his way through with the papers his mom retrieved from my house. It proved that I came here legally and had every right to be standing where I am. Almost being detained as a kid was terrifying.

Around six John's alarm goes off around six and he opens his eyes to see me. He smiles softly at me, reaching around and violently boxing his alarm clock so it would stop ringing. I'm reading still, but smiling as John gently kisses my cheek. His arms snake around me and he rests his head on my chest. I almost want to skip class with him today and remain like this. But then I remember that all that note taking would be for nothing if I did. So I put my book down and pull myself from John's arms and bed.

"C'mon, we can both be sick," John says, rolling over and watching me as I get undressed.

I sigh as I slip on some boxers and a pair of faded and ripped loose blue jeans, an old black hoodie that I'm more than sure is John's, and a white tee shirt with a few tears in it and an old stain from something or another. I look pretty shaggy, but I'm tired and I don't care. John, on the other hand, who insists he's feeling better, looks like he just stepped out of a photo shoot. He wears light blue jeans that sit high on his hip and go straight, not hugging his legs at all, as well as a black and white striped tee shirt, tucked in a bit. His hair is left down, making him look almost elegant as he swings his backpack over his shoulder.

"Alexander?" He says softly.

"Yes?" I reply, my eyes wide.

He smiles. "Would you pour some coffee into my thermos? I need to brush my teeth."

I nod and fill both of our thermos' up with the caffeinated dark liquid. Sometimes, I question what I would do without coffee. I figure I would die of exhaustion and dehydration. I tend to not be the best when it comes to getting enough sleep, so I find caffeine can sometimes be my main source of energy for the day. It's not like I try to deprive myself, I just have so much to do and so little time in a day to do it, so night is a good time for me to work. If I don't get enough sleep, then that is a sacrifice I must make.

"Alex, dearest, come on, we're going to be late if we want to take our sweet ass time walking like we usually do," John says, laughing, his hair flowing like a river over his shoulders. John, naturally, is always beautiful, but sometimes it just takes me off guard. I don't expect it and I'm left speechless. John is the only person who can do that. He's the only person who could leave me speechless.

"Let's be off then," I say, recovering from my moment of gay induced panic. John and I walk next to each other, our shoulders brushing every now and then. I sip my coffee with much more vigor than usual, and John takes notice.

"Did you sleep last night?" He asks me.

I'm startled by the question. "What?"

"Alexander," he scolds lightly. "Tonight we are going to bed early. You need to sleep."

I shrug. "I'm fine. Just a bit tired." I look up to see Thomas and James walking together, If you weren't looking for it, you wouldn't see them walking with their pinkies linked. You wouldn't 't see the way Thomas looks down and blushes every time James bumps his shoulder. You wouldn't see if you had never been in his shoes before.

"I'll try to get you some coffee later today if I can, yeah?" John says, brushing my shoulder with his hand.

"You don't need too. I'll be fine. I know Washington has a pot in his office so I'll just ask for a refill," I explain to John.

He sighs. "Text me if you're falling asleep, okay?"

I nod and smile as we near his class. "Okay."

When we reach the door John takes my hand in his and looks at me, smiling contently. His plump lips open and form words but I'm too distracted by the way the sun shines on his hair and the way his freckles form tiny constellations on his cheeks.

"Alex!" His voice finally breaks me out of my trance.

"What?" I say.

He sighs and shakes his head. "You really should've slept last night. I said to go home if you can't stay awake, your health is most important."

I nod. "Okay, okay."

John leans down and kisses my cheek, leaving my face burning and turning a deep shade of crimson. "Go to class Alexander, Jefferson won't argue with himself."

I smile and skip off to class. I walk in and go sit in my usual seat. I'm a few minutes early so only Burr is there, and he seems off in another place as he types on his laptop. I sit back and pull out my phone. Laf texts me to tell me that he will be entertaining Herc this morning instead of going to class, so I figure it will just be Aaron and Angelica with me. The triple A's.

"I'm just saying, the way he's teaching is more than unorthodox," says a voice behind me. "Washington should not be left alone to teach this class. He's indecisive from lesson to lesson. The best thing he could do for us is to turn around and go back to teaching schools at Mount Vernon."

"Excuse me?" I turn around to see Charles Lee and Thomas Conway talking.

"What, immigrant? You heard daddy's name?" Charles says.

"Fuck off he's a great teacher," I say.

"Alex," I hear Burr mumble, warning in his tone.

"You should listen to your friend," Charles snaps. "Come on, he's gonna be here soon. You wouldn't want daddy to see you all riled up now would you?"

"Shut up," I growl.

"Oh what, the little bastard immigrant is getting his feelings hurt?" Charles laughs.

"What did you just call me?" My hands turn into fists and I can feel my face grow red.

"I called you a little. Bastard. Immigrant."

Consumed by rage I leap over my chair and straight onto Charles Lee. It's instantly a full-blown brawl. He punches me in the jaw but I end up pulling him out of his seat and throwing him into the isle. I pounce on him and start to hit him as hard as I can. It hurts like a mother fucker, but I'm too angered to care. Suddenly, I'm pulled off Charles by a force that felt like two men but was really just Washington.

"Alexander!" He yells. "My office, now!"

I storm off to his office, still wanting to kill Charles. I go in and sit down in a leather chair and wait, steaming in my anger. After a few minutes, Washington walks in. He looks mad. His jaw is set and his hands are balled up. When he sits down, he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs heavily.

"Son-"

I cut him off. "Don't call me son."

"This class can be hard enough without infighting," he starts.

"Lee called you out, I called his bluff," I snap.

"You solve nothing, you just aggravate him more," Washington explains.

"You're absolutely right." I pause to see Washington's look of shock when I say that. "I should've hit him in the mouth. That might have shut him up."

"Son-"

I cut him off again. "I'm not your son."

Washington sighs quickly. "Watch your tone. I am not a maiden in need of defending, I am a grown man."

"Charles Lee, Thomas Conway, these men take your name and they rake it through the mud," I argue.

"My name has been through a lot, I can take it."

"Well I don't have your name, but if you just-"

"No."

I continue. "If you let me get ahead and fight my way through college I could rise into government quicker than anyone."

"Or you could get kicked out of college and we need you here," he argues.

"That is a risk I am more than willing to take." I slam my fist down on his desk.

"John needs you here, son, I need you here-"

I cut him off again, anger surging from every part of my body. I stand up and slam both my hands on his desk. "Call me son one more time!" I'm breathing heavy. His office is silent.

For a second he looks shocked at what I did, almost hurt. But then he quickly disguises it and speaks. "Leave my class, Alexander. That's a demand from your professor."

"Sir," I say quietly.

He holds up his hand to stop any further explanation. "Leave."

I walk out of his office, fuming, and realize quickly that all eyes are on me. Charles Lee is gone, thankfully, but Thomas Conway is giving me snide looks from the back. I still want to beat the shit out of him. But I go up to my seat and collect my things.

"I told him you were defending him, I told him what they called you," Aaron says quietly.

"Thank you," I reply.

"Alex you don't have to leave," Angelica says. "I promise people will forget."

I look up to see Washington standing in the doorway, staring at me. "I don't exactly have a choice."

Finally, I have all my things and I storm out of the class quickly. I can't believe this. I can't believe this happened. I don't think I've ever lost my temper like that before, but god, he kept calling me son, and Charles kept saying those things, and everything was just so overwhelming I couldn't help it.

I walk to my dorm and drop my stuff, then text Burr asking him if he can show me his notes later. He texts back a yes and I plop down on my bed. I don't know what to do. I don't want to study for the first time in my life, so I take out my laptop and just start writing. I write the events of the day, why I know I'm right, why Washington was unjust in his actions to kick me out, why Charles Lee and Thomas Conway should jump off a building. And then I write other things. I write laws, I write letters, I write and write, and that's how I kill a day. When John walks in, a concerned look is already painted on his face, so I assume he met up with someone who was in my law class.

"Jefferson said you were asked to leave," He tells me, coming over and sitting on my bed. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

I sigh and close my laptop. John scooches closer to me and I rest my head against his shoulder. His hand runs through my hair as I start my story. "This fucking ass bitch named Charles Lee was talking shit about Washington and then he called me a bastard immigrant and so I fought him and then Washington brought me into his office and he kept calling me son and I just kinda blew up on him. I don't know. I was mad."

"You got into a fight?" John says, sitting up. He notices the bruise on my jaw. "Alexander! Oh my god! Have you put ice or anything on this?"

I shake my head. "No, are you supposed to?"

John gets up and pulls out a first aid kit. He gets one of those one time use ice packs and shakes it so it'll get cold. He wraps it in a washcloth and presses it to my jaw. "Alex the only way to get bruises to go away is to put ice on them. Why didn't you call me when you left in the first place? God Alex, are your knuckles okay?"

"I'm fine, John," I say, smiling as he checks my hand. "Really, I won anyway. Charles was a fucking wimp."

"You've officially had more fights than me in college," John laughs, kissing the bruised middle knuckle. "Alex, I know you feel the need to defend yourself. I know you want to be able to prove to the world that Alexander Hamilton can take a body blow. But, look around, look at where you are, look at where you started. The fact that you're alive is a miracle. Just, stay alive, that would be enough. And if your friend, could have a fraction of your time, if I could grant you peace of mind, that would be enough." A knock at the door startles him. "I'll get it." I watch him stand up and open the door. I can't see who stands outside, but I know who it is the moment John says, "professor! Hi, what are you doing here?"

"Can I talk to Alex alone for a second?" Washington says, his voice calm as ever.

"Alex, can-"

I cut John's question off. "Yeah."

"Okay, well, I'll leave you to it," John says as my law and politics professor steps in.

"Alex," Washington says calmly as he pulls my desk chair to my bed. "Would you like to tell me what that was all about today?"

I shrug, looking down at my hands. "I dunno."

"Alex, I have lived a very long forty years. I was in the military, I have taught middle school, high school, and college. I've been married twice. I grew up with a man who would take out his anger on his children and wife. I led a group of men into a massacre and witnessed the backlash of their families. In my life, I've made every mistake, I've felt shame rise in me. And even now I lie in bed at night, history has its eyes on me. I don't think you should fight your way through college, graduate early, and join the government as soon as possible. You won't be ready. I've been there, I've been in the group of people who decide how the world is run, and it's hard. I've been threatened, I've had attempts made on my life. And I don't want you to witness that so young. You are an immigrant, your skin is not white, and as much as it pains me to say it, the government is not a welcoming place for people like us. This will be the best experience with the government that you have. Innocence can be stripped from us once we leave college, and Alex, you have such a love for this country and so much faith in the idea that it can be improved, I don't want to risk taking that away, not yet." Washington sighs, looking at me.

"I'm sorry I blew up at you," I tell him, my head hung.

"Is me calling you son a trigger?" Washington asks.

I shrug. "I don't know. My dad, he, well, he was my hero. And he left my mom and me when I was ten. And if just ruined the idea of having a father or even a father figure. My mom died when I was twelve and I moved in with my cousin, but he, god he wasn't even close to a father figure. I spent a lot of time at John's house, but his dad and I never talked a whole lot. And then suddenly you're my professor and it's just, I don't know."

Washington nods. "I've been teaching for ten years, and I've never had a student like you. I can say that after only a month. Alex, if you ever need anything, school involved or not, you can contact me. I'm sorry you had a hard time growing up, but my wife and I will always be happy to take you in when you need it. We usually have a few students over for holidays, and if you would ever like to join us, we would be happy to have you."

"Thank you," I say.

Washington claps my shoulder gently and smiles at me. "Of course. I'll see you in class tomorrow Alex. Have a nice night."

"You too, professor," I tell him.

He gets up and leaves and a few minutes later, a very confused John walks in. "What was that all about?" He asks.

I shrug, sitting back on my bed. "We were just talking."

John laughs. "Please don't tell me you and your professor are having an affair."

I gasp, horrified. "Ew! No! He's like my dad!"

"Well that's good," John says, curling up next to me. "Is my baby Alex's feelings all better and worked out now?"

"God, don't call me that. And yes, they are. Satisfied?" I say.

"I am if you are," John says.

I smile. "I will never be satisfied." Even though, at the moment, my best friend in my arms and smiling, I am.


	8. Of course there is a storm chapter you fools

/Alex/

I wake up next to John. I slept a bit longer than usual, which was nice. I'm still awake at five, I just fell asleep around ten, giving me a full seven hours, which is twice what I usually get, so functioning is a little weird, but I can handle it. A knock on my door startles me and I open it to see Lafayette. He's barely clothed and it's a little unnerving, but then again, I am standing in front of him in a shirt with two gay cowboys fucking and some American flag boxers.

"Well Alex, it seems neither of us are ones to talk," Laf says, laughing.

I chuckle a bit. "It would seem so. What do you need?"

Laf hands me a flyer. "Not a party, just a get together."

"Who's coming?" I ask.

"Well, I'm inviting you and John, Burr and his chick, the Schuyler sisters, and one of my friends Maria. Jefferson and Madison maybe, it just depends," Laf explains to me.

I nod and smile. "This is cool, we'll be there."

"Wonderful. It's gonna go down at the Schuylers apartment since it's bigger than our dorms. I'll text you the address," Laf smiles. He turns around and walks back into his dorm, as well as I into mine. John is still sleeping, so I let him sleep. The sky is grey and overcast outside, so I can tell today might be colder. I pray that it doesn't storm though. Just in case it does, I pull out the little charm on string John once gave to me. It was a really bad winter and it wouldn't stop raining. I kept thinking about the hurricane back in my home. So John gave me a small typewriter charm and told me to wear it whenever there was a storm because it would protect me.

Around six I shake John awake. He grumbles something out the police being too loud around the alpacas and then climbs out of bed. I smile at him as he slips on a pair of Nike joggers and a brown sweater with some gangster teddy bears on it. He ties his hair up in a bun and then falls back down onto his bed. He looks extra tired so I pour some of my coffee into a cup and give it to him.

"Why are you so tired?" I ask, sitting next to him as he sips the coffee.

"I had trouble sleeping. I always have trouble sleeping before a storm," John says, then he looks at me, almost worried like he didn't mean to let that slip. John has this weird thing where whenever it's about to storm, he doesn't sleep very well.

"Maybe it won't storm, it's just cloudy," I say, pulling out my phone to check the weather. "Or it's gonna rain for the mass majority of today. Forecast says thunder and lightning are expected. How wonderful."

"Hey, we can get hot chocolate and cuddle up at night and relax," John says, placing his hand on mine.

"Okay. It's just a storm. I've been through worse, I can get through this," I state.

"That's my boy," John cheers, downing the rest of his coffee. We hang out and talk about our day and then it's time to go. John hands me my umbrella, a present his mom got me during that one stormy winter, and then John grabs his own. It's not raining yet, so I place my umbrella in my bag and walk with John to our classes. When we arrive at his class he smiles and places a small kiss on my forehead.

"Stay strong my dearest, Hamilton," John whispers.

"As long as you stay by my side," I reply.

John smiles and places a hand on my face, running his thumb over my cheek. "Always."

We part ways and I enter my first class. I'm more than satisfied to see Charles Lee with bruises on his face. He glares at me but I just happily skip over to Aaron and Angelica. Angelica smiles at me and runs her hand over the bruise on my jaw.

"You are a rascal," she tells me.

I smile cheekily. "He got what he deserved. Did you hear about Laf's get together, Aaron? Angelica, since he said it was being held at your place I assume you know."

Angelica nods.

"Yeah, I heard," starts Burr. "I don't know if I'll go though."

"Ah, c'mon Burr. What's the harm?" Angie knocks his shoulder a bit and laughs.

"You guys want me to come?" He asks.

"You and your girl," I smirk, laughing.

"Shut up, you wouldn't have a chance with her," Burr snaps at me.

"Relax, I'm gay," I say. "Sort of gay. Mostly gay."

"Gay for John," Laf clarifies as he sits down next to me.

"You're gay for John? He's your roommate right?" Angie says.

"Oh my god I'm not gay for John," I groan.

Laf chuckles. "He's so gay for John. I walked in on them fucking."

"No, he did not! I was just talking to John because he braided my hair and it looked weird," I say, talking louder. "The position we were in was compromising but earlier I had induced a tickling war with John to pay him back for the whorish job he did with my hair."

"Anyway, Burr, get together, Schuyler's place, you and your chick?" Laf says.

Burr looks at Laf, his head tilted. "My 'chick's' name is Theodosia, and yes, we'd be happy to come."

"Sweet, I will inform my love that we have a packed house. Should I invite Jefferson and his boy?" Laf asks.

"He and Hamilton might get into a fight but I've never minded their company," Burr stated, pulling out his laptop.

"He's a bit of a dick," Angie states.

Laf points at Angie. "That's what I wanted to hear. He's not coming."

I laugh and Washington comes in. He waves to us and then begins teaching. The class goes by quickly, and soon enough I was standing in front of the glass door that showed me the rain that had been going on since my third class. I flinched as thunder and lightning filled my senses. My hands gripped the typewriter charm around my neck as I stared outside. At least I had some form of protection in the building. Thunder crashes again and I am suddenly transported back to the storm. Back to when I was running to the store, I worked in but the wind was so strong it swept me off my feet and slammed me into a bike rack. I had those bruises for weeks. I was so scared, the water was up to my knees, and no one was there to help me. My hands were freezing and I knew that if I let go the water would sweep me away from where I was. I was so terrified.

"Aw, is baby Alex scared his hair will get ruined in the rain?" Jefferson's mocking voice brings me out of a dark place.

"I don't, I don't like storms," I stutter, my hands shaking.

"Big bad thunder is what makes Alexander Hamilton shake? Ha," Jefferson laughs. I glance at him quickly and then bring my gaze back to the outside. I have to face up to this at one point. I can't spend the next twenty four hours or so in this entryway.

"Would you like a ride to your dorm Alex?" I hear Madison's voice say.

"What?" Both mine and Jefferson's voice ring through the air at the same time, converting almost equal amounts of shock.

"Thomas, go get the car, I'll hang out with Alex," James says.

"It's really okay, I don't want to bother you," I start.

"See? He's fine," Jefferson continues.

"Jefferson! Pull the car around," James snaps.

"Yes darling," Jefferson says like a scolded child.

"Hamilton, you will let us give you a ride." James turns to me.

"Okay." I nod, not wanting to edge on James anymore.

Jefferson goes out in the rain and runs towards the direction of the parking lot. He's holding what looks to be the laptop bag over his head. Ha, and he teased me about not wanting to get my hair wet. At least I'm not willing to damage high tech and necessary equipment for my college career to keep my hair safe.

"Why don't you like storms? If you don't mind me asking," James says, his tone softer than before.

I shrug. "When I lived in the Caribbean there was a hurricane. A lot of good people died and I was kinda trapped outside for the majority of it."

James sighs. "I'm sorry for what Thomas said about immigrants. He's not exactly the most understanding sometimes, and he doesn't know that I'm not from here either."

"You're an immigrant?" I ask.

James shrugs. "I came from a war-ridden land when I was really young. Jefferson thought I came from Wisconsin. He's, well, he's the closest friend I've got. I don't want to risk that by telling him what really brought me to Virginia."

I give Madison a half smile. "Immigrants have to stick together. As much as I dislike Jefferson, you can always come to talk to me."

"Thank you, Alex," he says. A small honk brings us out of our daze. Jefferson is in front of the building, a 1999 Toyota as his choice of transportation. I take a deep breath and quickly dart from the building to the back of the car with Madison, although Madison sits shotgun.

"Where to?" Jefferson says, sullen and annoyed.

"Just the freshman dorms," I mumble.

It's quiet for a minute, and then Jefferson's voice rings through the air. "Alex?"

I look up for my intense stare out the window. "Yes?"

There's a pause. "What you did, to Charles Lee, that was pretty cool."

"The douchebag deserved it. Did you hear what he was saying? God, I would've been happy to knock his teeth in," I say, getting a bit riled.

"Calm down Rocky, he got the message," James laughs.

Jefferson pulls up to the freshman dorms, and I'm about to step out without another word, but then I look back at them. "Thank you, for the ride. I really appreciate it."

"No problem Hamilton," James says. I step out and run quickly into the building where my dorm is. When I get there, Herc and Laf are there with John. I drop my stuff on my bed and sit down next to John, closing my eyes and letting his arms surround me.

"We're gonna leave for the Schuyler's in an hour, okay?" John whispers lightly to me.

I nod and start fiddling with the hem of his shirt while he talks to Laf and Herc. Thunder booms loudly and the room shakes. I flinch and think about the tree I gripped at six feet of water raged under me. The bark was cutting into my hands and the inside of the thighs. Scars still rest on the soft skin. I was crying so hard. No one was coming for me. I was truly alone.

"Alex, hey baby, coming back to me," I hear John's soft voice say. "Come on, I'm right here, talk to me, baby. Don't let your mind get you. Talk to me."

"I, I'm gonna go take a shower," I say quickly, standing up.

"Stay safe," John says. I nod and make my way into the bathroom. I turn on the water and step in. I let it run over me gently, washing my hair and my body, mumbling the lyrics to a song I had heard earlier. Finally, I step out, feeling better than I did. I walked out of the bathroom to see John and Laf laughing about something while Herc blushes. I roll my eyes and pull out a fresh pair of skinny jeans and a large yellow hoodie, as well as some boxers and socks. I go back into the bathroom and get dressed, then walk out and sit next to John.

"Alex, what's the most embarrassing thing you did as a kid?" Laf asks me.

I think for a second. "Uh, I used to work at this store when I was ten, and I would sing for customers for tips."

"You were working at ten?" Herc looks shocked.

I shrugged. "My dad left, my mom was sick, I needed to make money for my family. Ages ten through twelve I was the least focused on school I had ever been. I had a little time to focus on my work when I fell sick with my mom"

"What happened at twelve to change that?" Laf asks.

"I moved to my cousin's house in America after a storm wrecked the only place I could live," I explain. "It was the middle of the school year, but as John can confirm, I've been a workaholic from age nine, so I learned what I hadn't when I was working and sick, and then quickly got ahead."

"What about your mom?" Herc asks, "did she move with you?"

"I got better, my mother went quick," I say, shrugging.

"Jesus dude, I'm sorry," Laf says.

"It was long ago. It doesn't bother me to talk about it anymore," I say. John takes my hand and I sigh, a small smile reaching my lips. "John, do you wanna tell them about the seventh grade?" I have to stifle a laugh.

"What about the seventh grade?" Herc urges.

John groans. "Dammit, Alex. I just went through a bit of an emo phase."

I snort. "A bit? Dude, you were wearing eyeliner and your closet consisted of black ripped jeans and shirts for shitty bands no one had heard of."

"I was a lot cuter when I went through my grunge phase," John states, laughing.

"It's true, my man can pull off a flannel," I state, laughing.

"Your man? Since when am I your man?" John laughs, nudging me.

"Since I said so," I reply snarkily.

John smirks at me, his hand brushing over my thigh as he turns to me. I bite my lip and tilt my head a bit. John is close enough to where I can smell the coffee on his breath. His eyes look darker and lined with lust and desire. I look up at him through my eyelashes, running my tongue across my bottom lip. For some odd reason, I just want to rip his clothes off and kiss every inch of his skin. At this point, he looks like he wants to do the same.

"Are y'all gonna fuck?" Laf breaks us out of our stare.

"What?" I say.

"Are you guys gonna fuck tonight?" Herc clarifies.

"Why would you-"

Laf cuts off John's stammering. "I could literally cut the sexual tension with a knife, and it's not from Herc and I because we had sex before we came over."

"Jesus Christ Laf, they don't need to know everything," Herc says.

"I'm just saying," Laf exclaims. He looks back at us. "Well?"

John shrugs. "We'll see."

"Are you guys together?" Herc asks.

"We don't really know," I say.

"We don't," John agrees.

"Do you want to?" Herc asks.

"We're figuring it out guys, Jesus," John says.

"What could you have to figure out? You both obviously want to fuck each other," Lafayette says, obviously annoyed with how slow we're taking it. Herc rolls his eyes while Laf throws his arms out to over exaggerate his exasperation.

John places his hand on mine. "Alex and I have had a very strange and touchy relationship for a long time, and recently we have both slowly started to the explore the idea of being a bit more. We haven't really talked about it but I think we've both started to become more physical and blatant about any romantic feelings we've acquired for each other, I think we just need some time to figure it out because we have been friends for a really long time, so we just need to try to figure out what being more physical and acting more coupley will be like for us."

"Yeah, I like that," I say, nodding my head.

"That's some mature ass shit right there," Herc points out.

Laf groans. "Yeah yeah, whatever you guys are obviously really compatible."

John smiles at him. "Yeah, I guess we are."

A bit later John is driving all of us to the Schuyler's apartment. Rain pounds on the roof of our truck, and I start to shake. John noticed right away and places one hand gently on my thigh. I place my hand over it and stare out the window. It's getting darker, but I know John is capable of driving in this weather. He's proved it time and again, delivering me to different places without a scratch.

We arrive at the apartment building and the four of us get out of the car. Laf is talking about how the Schuylers are a very close-knit sisterhood and it's best to not get on the bad side of any of them because that means you are on the bad side of all of them. I make a mental of that as we finally come to their door. Laf pulls out a key and opens it, and we walk in on a very interesting scene.

Angelica is wrestling Eliza for some reason, while Peggy is throwing whatever she can get her hands on at them. Eliza has something in her hand that Angelica is trying to get, and for a moment, we have no context, but then Angelica finally says something as she pins down Eliza's arm.

"We are not listening to jazz during this! Give me the remote!" Her voice is stronger than I've ever heard it.

"Oh, whatever!" Says Eliza. "Jazz is cool."

"Guys! Get off of each other!" Yells Peggy, throwing an entire couch cushion at the two.

"Angelica! Eliza! And Peggy!" Hercules yells. They all stop what they're doing, look up, and smile.

"The Schuyler sisters," Laf smirks, gesturing to them.

"Alexander!" Angelica says, getting off of Eliza and snatching the remote in a moment of vulnerability.

"Hi," I say, smiling.

"It's good to see your face," she says, pinching my cheek. She looks over to John and smiles. "This must be the man I've heard so much about. Hello, I'm Angelica. I'm in Alexander's law and politics class."

"I'm John, I'm in Alex's room," John says, cracking one of his signature grins.

"Alex, hello," Eliza says, hugging me.

We all get more comfortable and sit down in their living room. I'm sitting on either side of Angelica and Eliza while John sits across from me on the floor. He smiles and raises his eyebrows a couple of times, gesturing to the girls on either side of me. I roll my eyes but smile. We make a bit of small talk until Burr shows up with this girl named Theodosia. She's very pretty. Definitely out of Burr's league. And finally, the last person shows up. She's a busty girl, dark cocoa skin, a tight red tank top embellishing her toned and curvy figure.

"Guys, this is Maria. She's a friend of mine who goes to New York University on the other side of the city," Laf says.

"Hello, I'm Alexander," I introduce.

"Hello Alexander," she smiles. She sits next to Eliza and we finally all begin having real conversations. I talk to Eliza and Maria about what they're studying, what they like, all that stuff. They both get very touchy but seem rather mad at the other. I start to feel awkward as they do that girl thing where they insult each other but not like, actually insult each other but obviously insult each other. I look over at John with pleading eyes. He's talking to Burr and Theodosia about something but sees me.

"Excuse me," I hear him say. He scooches closer to me just as Maria places her hand on my thigh.

"This is my best friend John," I introduce quickly.

"Ladies," John says as he gently hooks his arm around my waist and pulls me near to him. He makes quite a show of reaching over with his free hand and grabbing mine, then kissing the side of my head. "How are you?"

Maria purses her lips a bit. "Okay."

"Alex, is this your boyfriend?" Eliza asks sweetly.

"Not quite, it's complicated," I explain.

"Oh that's cool," Eliza smiles at me.

We're about to fall into an awkward air but then Angelica joins us and the conversation starts up again. John falls into a bit of a more casual hold on me, his arm just around my shoulders and stuff. Really, it's going great, until thunder cracks loudly. It feels like the whole apartment shakes and quivers, and the rain becomes louder. My heart seems to stop for a moment and suddenly I'm thinking about the dark night I spent on the roof of the pickup truck that was slowly rolling with the water. How I woke up just as the level reached where I was sleeping. How I was trapped for a solid hour until I could jump onto something floating by.

"Alex, hey, stay with me Alex," I hear John's voice say. It sounds distant. Like he's calling to me and I'm just this kid trapped and surrounded by water. Thunder booms again and I'm in the top floor of an old building, waiting for the water to drain off the island. I look out the window and a body floats by. I don't look out the window anymore.

"I can't, I," I try to speak but my throat seems clogged up like there are cotton balls stuck in it. I'm panicking, I can't breathe. I forget where I am and who I'm with. I don't hear voices I just hear the screams I heard when the water went down. I just see the bodies. So many bodies. Kids my age, kids younger.

"Alex."

I hear my name again. It sounds so far away. My eyes are scrunched closed, trying to block out what I'm seeing. I can hear someone sobbing and I don't know if it's real or if it's a memory. Someone is running their hands through my hair.

"Alexander," says a voice calmly, "come back to me Alexander. Follow my voice. Listen to my voice. You are right here in my arms. You are safe. Come back to me, Alexander."

My head stops spinning as I listen. I'm leaning into someone warm. Their hands are in my hair. My eyes are closed but I'm just focusing on what they're saying. I feel warm, relaxed, comfortable. Memories slowly fade and I open my eyes. I don't remember how I ended up sitting between John's legs. I don't remember pressing my face to his chest. I don't remember dampening the sweater he's wearing with tears. The room is silent and suddenly I am very aware of my existence. I am very aware that everyone is looking at me. Nervously I adjust myself so my back is against John's chest.

"I'm okay," I say quietly.

The talking starts up again but I stay quiet. John wraps his arms around my waist and places his chin on my shoulder. At this point, I feel ready to go. There's only so long I can maintain myself in a room right after I've made far more than of fool of my good name. I begin tapping John's knee melodically.

"Would you like to leave?" He whispers gently in my ear.

"We don't have to," I state.

"I barely know anyone here I kinda want to go too," John tells me. I nod and we stand up, bidding out adieus and making sure Laf and Herc have a ride back to the dorms, then we leave. The car ride back is stressful due to the weather. Even John was nervous. I could tell from the way he white-knuckled the steering wheel. I had to keep wiping my palms on my jeans so they wouldn't be as sweaty. We finally get to the parking lot and sit in the car for a second.

"We're gonna get soaked," I point out, looking at the rain.

John nods. "Who knew it could rain so much?"

I laugh. "I did."

John glances over at me with a sad smile. "On three?"

I nod.

"One. Two. Three!" When John says three both of us bolt out of the car and sprint to the dorm building. Water soaks through my clothing in seconds. My hair sticks to my face and by the time we make it to the building, we're dripping. John smiles and puts his arm around me as we walk to the elevator. I lean against him on our ride up, ignoring the fact that we're both wet and my jeans are becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Finally, we arrive at our dorm and I strip down to my boxers, the only dry thing I'm wearing currently, in a matter of seconds. John does the same and we both hang up our wet clothes in the bathroom. We proceed out into the main part of our room and I slip on a large tee shirt that I'm not so sure is mine. John puts on an old tee shirt, looks at me, and laughs.

"What?" I say.

"You're wearing my shroom shirt," John says.

"Shroom shirt..?" I say slowly.

"The art," he clarifies. He makes a dazzling point. It does look like something shrooms or LSD or something like that would produce.

"What do you want to do?" I ask, lying down on his bed.

John stares at me for a second, his eyes scanning over me. The way the shirt is coming up from my hips a bit, the way my wet hair is loose and out of its ponytail. His eyes look lustful and greedy almost for a second, but then he takes a deep breath and lies down next to me on his side and I roll so that I'm facing him. He places his hand gently on my cheek and smiles. "Whatever you want."

"I kinda just wanna talk to you," I tell him honestly.

He smiles at me. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. How's college going for you?" I ask.

"It's going well. I'm really loving my art class. The teacher, professor Trumbull, is really good at painting and I really enjoy his class a lot. He talks about the veil art can set onto the real world, and how you can paint what you want to see," John tells me. "What about you? Are you and Washington still best friends?"

I nod and laugh. "Yes, we are. He's a really cool professor though. I've learned a lot in his class, and I've made friends."

"Yeah, how is that? You and I were like, the only people we knew for a good portion of our lives, and now we're hanging out with people and going to parties and talking to more than just the dog," John jokes.

I shrug as well as I can in the position I'm in. "It's okay. I still get really nervous in social situations, but at least I have a group I can hide in."

"Now why would Alexander Hamilton, the guy who literally stood up in front of an entire group of people and threatened to shove your foot up someone's ass, want to hide?" John begins dragging the tip of his pointer finger along my jaw.

I give John a half smile. "When people aren't going to listen, I don't want to talk."

John chuckles. "I like it when you talk."

"I like it when I talk too," I say, smirking.

"You know what we should talk about?" John says, curling my hair around his finger.

"Hm?" I hum, a little bit lost in his eyes.

"What Laf so blatantly brought up," John says.

"You mean about us?"

John nods.

"What about us?" I ask, my hand running down his side.

"I don't know, we've never really talked about what we are relationship-wise," John says.

I smile at him. "I kinda like how we are right now. Complicated, but loyal."

"Complicated but loyal," John repeats, thinking. He then pulls me closer and kisses my forehead. "Complicated but loyal. I like it."


	9. *Sexy voice* Happy birthday John Lauuuuurennsssss

/John/

With the arrival of October comes the approach of two of two events that Alex refuses to ever stop talking about when we get within in a month of them. The boy will keep me up at night talking about it, and even though it is cute to be able to hear Alex smiling, I do end up falling asleep while resting on his shoulder.

The first event is Halloween. Alex loves Halloween. He and I have always done group costumes together. We've been Paul and McCartney, Ash and Pikachu, Calvin and Hobbes. But this year we've decided to be skeletons and let Laf do our makeup. It seems we are not the only Halloween lovers since Herc is making his and Laf's costume. He wouldn't tell us what it is but I feel as if the amount of clothing that Laf will be wearing is going to be slightly more limited than what he usually wears if you catch my drift. Alex and I are excited because we've never been to a Halloween college party. Halloween is the one time of year Alex will willingly go to a party without me throwing myself at his feet and begging.

The second event is one I'm usually more than happy to avoid but always celebrating thanks to my wonderful friend. That event is my birthday. I made Alex promise not to tell anyone else and he promised as long as I let him do whatever he wants with me for my birthday. Right after that he quickly explained he didn't mean sexually and he cringed at the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Then I told him he could do whatever he wants with me, and winked, causing the small boy to blush and fidget. My birthday is often overshadowed by Halloween due to the fact that it is only three days before. I've had three parties that I can remember for my birthday, then, in fourth grade, I decided I was done having costume parties and just told my parents to leave my presents on the table in the morning. But when it finally got out to Alex when my birthday was, that happened the summer before middle school, he told me he would never let me not celebrate it again. So when October 28th rolled around during school, he followed me around all day throwing confetti at me. Then we went to my house and ate an entire sheet cake while talking about the drama going on at school. It's funny, Alex and I spent almost every second of our lives together and we never ran out of things to talk about. Truthfully, I don't know what I did before Alex.

"John," Alex says.

"Yes?" I reply, looking at the book I was reading.

"What should we wear for Halloween? We already know what we're gonna be, what should we wear?"Alex is lying on the floor, reading, with his feet propped up on his bed. He claims he remembers things better when he does this because all the blood is in his brain.

"What if we just like, wore dress shirts and blazers and stuff? Kinda, fancy skeletons," I say, thinking about what would look good with the makeup Laf showed us he could do. He and Herc are like a power couple almost. Herc does the clothing, Laf does the makeup and hair. Alex and I are a bit inept at both of those, so it's good to have friends who are.

Alex nods. "I like that. What are you reading?"

"Dead Poet Society by N. H. Kleinbaum. What about you?" I glance over at my partially upside down Alex.

"Civil Disobedience by Henry David Thoreau," Alex mumbles, monotone almost. He rarely reads anything besides books about government. He is very educated on how it is currently run, how it has been run, the ideas or democrats and republicans, how this nation will function is we accept change and if we don't. So if a man this educated on the government will march in The Women's March and oppose Trump and write essays on him and do anything he can to bring light to the fact that he is an idiot, then I will too.

"What are we doing for my birthday?" I ask, knowing it is tomorrow.

"Oh, yeah. When is that again?" He asks, obviously knowing when it is.

"Four weeks ago. I guess it's too late now to do anything. Oh well," I joke.

Alex tilts his head back to look at me. "It's a surprise."

I groan. "I swear to god there better not be a theme." One year Alex decided to a turtle porn theme and just got a bunch of porno posters and glued turtle heads over them. I kept all of them but it was a very weird conversation to have when my mom found a bunch of porn stars with turtle heads over their faces under my bed.

"Don't worry, I learned my lesson, no theme," Alex chuckles, glancing at the one turtle pornstar poster I brought with me, hanging up on my wall.

"I just want a nice day, just you and me, and that's it. No people," I state.

"Why do you hate your birthday so much?" Alex laughs, placing his book down.

I groan. "It's stupid. And weird. And I always feel awkward. And the only reason people came to the three birthday parties was either that they were made too or they wanted the cake. Most people didn't even know it was my birthday. Everyone was racist."

"Well we do have like, no white friends now, so why can't I throw you a party?" Alex asks, relentless in his desire to celebrate my removal day. Another reason I hated birthdays is that everyone knew I was C section and would always shout 'happy removal day tumor baby' as they shoved me into a locker.

"Because I like just hanging out with you," I mumble quietly.

"What?" Alex inquires.

"Because I like just hanging out with you," I say louder. Alex smiles, stands up, and walks over to where I'm sitting. I set my book down just in time for him to fall into my lap, wrapping his arms around my neck and almost knocking us over if it weren't for my arms pushing us up and keeping us steady. I wrap my arms around Alex's waist and look up at him.

"Well then, Johnathan Laurens, I am all yours," Alex says gently. I gently flip us over so his back is pressed against the bed and my chest is pressed against his. He laughs, his hands slipping up the back of my shirt and his fingers running over my skin. I smile and rest my head on his shoulder as his fingers trace shapes on my back. I quickly recognize it as him writing words. Sometimes he does this when he's bored, or when he has things to say to me. I can usually recognize what he's doing, but not what he's trying to say.

"What are you writing?" I ask, my lips brushing against his neck.

"Everything I want to say to you, John," He whispers to me, hugging me a bit tighter.

"What do you want to say to me?" I ask, propping myself up so we could meet eyes.

He smiles and places his hand on the side of my face, running my thumb over my cheekbone softly. "Everything, galaxy boy."

I smiled and leaned down, kissing his jaw bone. "You are such a tease."

Alex places his hands on my hips, his fingers digging into them as my mouth runs down the side of his neck to his collarbone. "You have no idea, John Laurens."

Waking up in my best friends arms on my birthday is perhaps one of my favorite things to do. For a moment I almost think he's still asleep, but then he brushes some of my hair behind my ear. I grunt a little as I cuddle closer to him. He is holding my hand and it's nice. I can hear his heartbeat from where my head is so I tap one of my fingers against his hand to the beat.

"Good morning my nineteen-year-old man," he laughs, rolling over so he was facing me.

"Mmf," I groan.

"You wanna get breakfast or open presents?" He asks me softly, his hand pressing to my cheek and his thumb running over my bottom lip.

"I wanna lie in bed with you," I grunt.

"You've been doing that all night," he points out.

"Do you not want to cuddle me?" I ask bluntly.

"No, I want to cuddle you," Alexander insists.

I move a bit closer to him. "Then prove it."

Alex pulls himself closer to me. "Only because you're the birthday boy."

"God, don't call me that," I groan, adjusting us so we're a bit more comfortable.

"Happy birthday to you," Alex sings. "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Johnny. Happy birthday to you." Alex's singing voice isn't perfect, but it has this raw sound that's just so hypnotizing.

"Suck my dick," I grumble.

"Well if that's what you want," Alex teases.

"Whatever," I laugh. We both sigh deeply and fall into a comfortable silence. Finally, though, I hear a long rumble come from my empty stomach. Alex places his hand over the source of the sound and looks up at me.

"Breakfast?"

I nod. "Breakfast."

Alex sits up and rolls over me, overestimating how much space was on the other side and landing on the floor with a thud. I laugh as I look down to see my friend on the floor. He sits up and I greet him with a small kiss on the top of the head. A blush illuminates his cheeks and he closes his eyes and smiles.

"Is there a dress code for today?" I ask, knowing sometimes Alex likes to take me to a fancy restaurant and I'd prefer not to be caught off guard wearing jeans and an old tee shirt.

"Yes, it's your first present," Alex says, pulling a bag out from under his bed. He digs around it for a second until he pulls out something wrapped in blue tissue paper. He hands it to me and sits next to me on my bed.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Open it," he urges.

"Does it bite?"

Alex let's out a long groan, further proving that his lung capacity is a wonder of nature. "Open it. I swear to god. Don't make tickle you again."

"Okay okay," I say, starting to peel back the paper. The first thing I see is black fabric. I hold it up to see a black tee shirt with the words 'Got Hamilton?' on it. "What even?" I say, laughing.

Alex is laughing too. "Well, I have my 'I only came because John made me' hoodie, so I figure you should have some sort of clothing confirming your friendship with me."

I pull Alex into a hug. "I love it."

"Okay, well let's go we have to get breakfast. We'll open the rest of your presents later," Alex tells me.

I nod and slip off my sleep shirt, then put on the shirt Alex so graciously got for me. I decided to pair it with some khaki joggers and a pair of black high top Vans, as well as a blue hoodie. I try to do my hair in a bun but it ends with Alex doing it instead. Alex just slipped on a grey hoodie and some blue jeans, as well as his checkered Vans. His hair goes up into a simple ponytail and we are off. Alex tries to subtly slip my presents into the small backpack he always wears around the city, but I see. I feel as if this will be a fun, yet exhausting day.

Alex and I walk down the streets of New York until he pulls me into our first stop, the bagel shop we went to our first full day here. I laugh as we get in line to order. My fingers lace around Alex's as we wait. His head leans against my shoulder his warmth radiates through me. We get to the front and I order for both of us, but before I can grab my card, Alex has already paid. I'm about to argue but Alex gives me a look, letting me know it's pointless to even try, so I shut my mouth and kiss his nose.

"Hey, kitty?" I say as we sit down. Kitty is a nickname he earned due to a school play in middle school, where he played a cat that we both agreed was a gay prostitute.

"Yes, galaxy boy?" He replies, smiling.

"You are the best," I state.

Alex smiles and taps his foot against mine. "As are you."

Our bagels end up in front of us, and we begin munching down. Alex finishes before I do and starts to look antsy as I take a slow sip of my coffee. I can always tell when he's getting impatient because he starts writing words on the table with his finger.

"Do we have somewhere we need to be?" I ask, smiling, looking at the time, which was nine thirty.

"Well, I had a friend in my statistics class help me calculate how long it will take for you to do everything between now and the last thing we need to do, adding in pee breaks, snack breaks, as well as dawdling, which you enjoy to do, and we need to be at the subway in fifteen minutes if you really want to take your time," Alex explains quickly.

I stand up, my bagel in my hand. "Then let's go."

"I don't want to rush you," Alex quickly interjects.

"Alex, I'm excited, c'mon. Let's do this," I state. He stands up and I take his hand as he leads me to a subway station. It's loud and warm as we descend the steps onto the platform. Alex buys us some tickets and we wait for the A1 train. I finish off my bagel in that time and toss it, then sit down next to Alex on a bench. Finally, our train comes and we step on.

"Would you like to be serenaded?" Alex asks, smiling as we hold onto the bars.

"Oh no," I say, knowing whatever I tell him, he's still going to sing.

"Johnathan!" He sings, holding out my name. "Johnathan! Laurens!"

"Alex oh my god," I say, my face turning red.

"Man he used to fall asleep right next to me. He was a light-skinneded, Puerto Rican-Dominican, long hair, mature and a body like whoa." Alex dances a little bit.

"Like, whoa," I sing along, remembering when Alex wrote this song.

"That's not the only reason I liked him though," Alex continues. His voice draws attention. "He said he's moving from South Carolina to New York."

"Where dreams are made!" I sing, smiling.

"Well so am I, so I said hi." Alex starts snapping. "He seemed mature, so I talked more."

"More, more, more!" I echo quietly.

"And I was like." Alex spins around and finger guns at me. "What the heck I gotta do, to be with you?"

"What the heck I gotta do?" I sing as the background.

"What the heck I gotta do, to be with you?" Alex grabs my hand.

I sing the background again. "What the heck I gotta do?"

"Tell me who I gotta be!" Alex holds out the note, his voice rising and falling beautifully. "For you to be with me!"

"Smiley face," I sing, smirking.

"Yes! Next thing you know we're texting day and night, I trust him right away. Hey yo, I never make anyone like him bro. Yo, he listens to all my problems, I let him copy all my homework! And then I lay it out on the line, and he was like." Alex looks at me, waiting for me to sing.

I roll my eyes. "No, no-"

"No!" Alex sings. "Well, he didn't say no exactly I don't-"

"No, no, no, no."

Alex shrugs. "Yeah I was surprised, I'm a pretty great guy."

I pull Alex into a hug to shut him up. "Yeah, you are a pretty great guy."

"I wasn't done!" Alex protests, wrapping his arms around me.

"Alex you're being too gay, even for New York," I laugh.

"Shut up," he giggles. We remain like that for the rest of the ride. Both of his arms around me. One of my arms around him, the other one holding onto the bar. Alex doesn't tell me exactly where we're going, so every stop I look at him, questioning if this is where we get off, to which he shakes his head and smiles. Finally, about thirty minutes into the ride, he pulls me off at a stop and we walk up the stairs. It doesn't take me more than a few seconds to realize where we are. My mouth falls open.

"You brought me to..." I can't finish the sentence.

Alex strikes a pose. "I'm just a Broadway baby! Walking off my tired feet, pounding forty-second street, to be in a show!"

"I can't believe I'm on Broadway!" I squeal.

Alex smiles as I jump into his arms. I've always liked musicals, and I've always wanted to go to Broadway in New York. "Thank you! Thank you!"

He chuckles. "I could not afford to actually take us to a musical, but we will be entertained later today, just not now."

"It's still perfect," I whisper, smiling at him. I take his hand, pulling him down the street. My phone is out and I am snapping pictures whenever I can. I pull Alex in front of a poster for Mary Poppins and take a selfie with him. He takes a picture of me in front of a poster for Wicked. I scream when I see a poster for Les Miserables.

"Oh boy," Alex smiles, knowing this was my favorite as a kid.

"Alex, take a picture," I say, striking a pose in front of the poster.

Alex holds up his phone and snaps a few photos, each of me in a different pose. "John, you look ravishing."

"Thank you, my dearest," I reply. We spend a good hour there, walking up and down the street, buying matching Broadway hoodies. Alex seems eager to get to our next spot, and I can tell he's a bit excited about it too. The subway ride is about forty minutes, and soon enough, we're stepping off in the Bronx. Alex holds my hand and pulls me down the street. I grab his waist and pull him back so he walks at the same pace as me, instead of ripping my arm out of its socket.

"John," he whines, drawing out my name.

"What?" I reply in the same tone and length, mocking him.

"Hurry." Alex tries to speed us up.

I stop us completely and pull Alex into my arms. He doesn't try to fight and instantly melts into my touch. I keep us there, standing on the sidewalk for a bit. Alex's breathing slows and I can feel his muscles relax a bit.

"Alex," I whisper softly. "This day is already perfect. We don't need a schedule. We are perfectly on time right now."

"I know, I'm sorry, I just want today to be fun and amazing and sometimes I forget that you don't like to be rushed," Alex sighs, his arms hugging me a little tighter.

"Baby." The nickname shocks both of us but nonetheless, I take his face in my hands and look at him. "I'm here with you, that's enough. Now, are you ready to walk like a normal human being?"

Alex nods. "Yes, I am. Onwards."

I lace my fingers together with his and we walk down the street, more relaxed. Alex leans against me and at one point I even stop us so we could take a selfie together. We probably look like tourists, but neither of us had ever been to New York and we've just been so busy with college that getting out to see the sights haven't been on our priority list.

"Here we are!" Alex says, holding out his arm and gesturing to a large sign. 'Bronx Zoo' is what it says.

"Oh my gosh! You brought me to the zoo!" I sound like a little kid at this point but I don't care. Now I'm the one pulling Alex's arm out of his socket. We quickly go to the entrance gates and I expect we are going to have to stand in line to buy tickets, but Alex grabs his wallet and pulls out two tickets and pulls me around into a different, much shorter and faster moving line. He hands the main guy our tickets and then we're in.

"I couldn't have my favorite boy standing in line on his birthday," Alex explains. "This brings me to my next present for you." He opens his bag and pulls out a very brightly coloured ball of tissue paper. "I couldn't figure out how to wrap it."

"Oh boy, what's this?" I say as we find a bench to sit down on.

"Open it, dummy," Alex says, smiling and placing his arm around me.

I roll my eyes and open it to see one of the cutest stuffed turtles anyone has ever gotten me. My mouth slowly turns up into a smile as my eyes light up. "Thank you!" I hug the turtle then I hug Alex.

"I'm glad you like it," Alex states as I pull him almost on top of me in the hug.

"It's perfect. Thank you. Oh my god thank you," I say. I take his face in my hands and plant a long kiss on his forehead. "You're perfect."

Alex smiles and dives into a hug. "I know."

"Now let's go look at the animals," I say. We both stand up, linking hands and begin walking around. We first see animals like monkeys and gorillas and stuff like that, then onto tigers. After that we see the elephant, then more. Finally, we're coming to the end, when I look over to see Thomas and James sitting on a bench. "Alex look."

Alex looks over just in time to see them kiss each other. I gasp and so does Alex. Everyone knew those two were close, but it was only rumored that they were a thing. So seeing the two make out on a bench in the Bronx zoo is startling, to say the least. Alex and I are sort of shocked into standing there and staring. The two breakaway though when Jefferson realizes Alex and I are staring. Thomas looks mad but James just calls us over.

"John, Alex, how are you?" James asks us.

"You two are, you're, what," Alex stutters.

"What?" Jefferson draws out the 'a' to make it seem like he has no idea what Alex is stuttering about.

"Yes, Alex, we are," James says calmly, smiling.

"Wow, but Thomas is so, like, loud, and you're so, like, relaxed," Alex says.

James smiles. "Yes, but we are together. We have been very good at keeping this a secret and we would appreciate if you guys kept what we know you just saw to yourselves. Alex, I understand you and Thomas have had your fair share of disagreements, but it would be greatly appreciated if you two didn't tell anyone about this."

"Only if Jefferson admits I'm a better debater," Alex quickly says.

"No, we will not tell anyone. Jefferson, don't satisfy him," I reply.

"Wasn't planning on it," Thomas says.

"So what are y'all doing out today?" I ask, making a conversation with James. He and I have the same art class and we like to talk a lot.

"Just on a date. It was nice, so we thought we'd visit the zoo. How about you?" James replies.

I elbow Alex, who is in a glaring war with Thomas, silently urging him to behave. "Oh, not much. We'd never been to New York before we moved here, and so we decided to have a day on the town to see the sights."

"Oh, Alex," James says. "I read this and I thought it might interest you since I know how passionate you are. Did you hear about the children down on the border being separated from their parents?"

I nod. "Yes actually, it's a human rights abuse. If you look at the treatment and the housing you could see the similarity between this and the Holocaust."

James' eyes widen. "I know right? These people are still living and breathing people, and their rights are beings stripped from them as if they were merely toys."

"It's heartbreaking. This country was built on immigrants. Our first treasury secretary was an immigrant for christ's sake! Yeah he cheated on his wife but he never did anything politically corrupt," Alex rants.

"This country is going to shit," I join in.

"Thank you, John," Alex says. Jefferson hasn't spoken a word, which I find odd since I know he's very opinionated on this kind of thing.

"Well, we should probably get going. I know Alex had a few things he wanted to do," I state. "It was nice seeing you guys."

"It was nice seeing you too," James tell us.

I grab Alex's hand and we continue walking. We exit the zoo and walk to a nearby cafe for lunch. I feel so happy and at peace when I'm with Alex. I love the way we fit together. Whether we're both talking a mile a minute or we're sitting in absolute silence. It's so easy to be with him.

The cafe we go to is just kind of a hipster place. The line isn't too long so Alex and I wait in it for a little bit, figuring out what we want to order. I decide on some avocado toast because I am secretly a hipster, as well as a vanilla frappuccino with cinnamon sprinkles on top and three shots. Alex, who scoffed when I told him about my choice of food, decided to get a bagel with lox, and a large black medium roast coffee. I rolled my eyes but was quick enough with my wallet to pay for us before Alex did.

"Hey! I wanted to pay!" Alex shot.

I shrug and smile as we find a table. "Oh well."

"Hey, babe," Alex says, tapping his foot against mine when we sit down.

"Yeah?" I reply, smiling at him.

"I have to tell you something but you have to promise to not tell anyone ever in a million years and keep it only to yourself, okay?" Alex tells me, giving me a serious look.

I cross my heart with my finger and then zip my mouth shut. "Promise."

"James Madison, you know him?" Alex says.

"Yes, I do Alex. That's why I just had a conversation with him not twenty minutes earlier," I say, laughing a bit.

"He's an immigrant," Alex states.

I push my eyebrows together. "Doesn't Jefferson, like, not like immigrants or something? Why would he date Madison?"

"He doesn't know," Alex informs me. "Madison told me that Jefferson thinks he came from Wisconsin."

"Thomas is going to find out eventually," I sigh, watching a waiter come over and place our lunch down in front of us.

Alex nods and takes a bite of his bagel. "I hope everything works out."

I nod in agreement. "So what else are we doing today?"

Alex shrugs a bit. "I have something planned and then we're going somewhere and then we're going back to the dorm to watch vintage alien porn and eat cake."

"Ooh, vintage alien porn. Last year we just watched 3D animation porn," I say, smiling. For some reason, Alex and I enjoy watching the weirder side of adult movies while we eat cake on my birthday. "Where are we going next?"

Alex smiles. "You'll have to wait and see."

I groan and sit back, drinking my coffee. "You're killing me."

He smiles cheekily and leans across the table, kissing my cheek. "I know."

When we finish up lunch and soon enough Alex and I are walking through the stream of people to our next destination. I place my arm around his waist and let my hand fall gently on his hip. He leans against me as we walk, then, after a few blocks, stops and turns me towards a building. It takes a second for me to see a sign on the building. 'Modern Art Museum Of New York.' I gasp and almost knock Alex and me over when I hug him.

"Oh my god! This day just keeps getting better and better!" I squeal, enveloping Alex in my arms.

"John! Air!" He chokes out.

"Oh! Sorry, sorry. I just got, excited. Thank you so much. Oh my gosh, I've been wanting to come here since I found out we were headed to New York." I pull Alex towards the building as I talk. "Did you know that Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh is here? And a lot of art by Andy Warhol. Oh my gosh, I can't believe you brought me here. C'mon hurry up."

Alex chuckles. "Okay mister 'we-don't-need-a-schedule.' Don't worry, we have plenty of time to browse the art."

We walk into the museum and I'm instantly entranced with all the art. I squeeze Alex's hand as he pays for our tickets and we begin walking. I was hypnotized by the art, but I could see Alex from the corner of my eye, staring at me and smiling. I couldn't stare and smile back though, I was too happy to see Andy Warhol's painting of all the Campbell's soup cans. I loved how he could make something so simple look so beautiful. Finally, though, Alex and I stumble upon what I was most excited to see.

"Starry Night," I whisper.

"Wow, it's gorgeous," Alex says.

"You're not even looking at the painting," I point out, drawing my gaze to meet his eyes.

Alex smiles. "I wasn't talking about the painting."

I smile a blush, so hard in fact that I have to bury my head in Alex's shoulder and hug him. He hugs me back, running his fingers up and down my spine. We gently sway back and forth as we hold each other. Alex smells the way he always does. A bit of musk from his hours spent around old books, his shampoo, and wood smoke almost. It's a calm and relaxing scent. I could stand here all day if it meant Alex stayed with me.

"Alexander," I say. I pause for a moment, wondering what I want to tell him and what I should tell him. I end up picking the one line I always use when I am in doubt of what my mind actually wishes to say. "You're the closest friend I've got."

"My dearest, Laurens," Alex starts. "I am disgusted with everything in this world but yourself."

We break away eventually, but I keep him hugged close to my side for the rest of the museum. My mom would always tell me that Alex and I were joint at the hip. She was kinda right. The moment Alex and I became friends, it was like my parents had two kids. They never got too in the loop about Alex's home life, but understood it was bad. Usually, Alex was at my house, on school nights or not. My parents would drive the two of us to school, let Alex hang out for holidays. Hell, Alex even came to our family reunions. It was nice because he seemed like the only sane person there sometimes.

The reunions were held at a lake house down in Georgia. Alex was never a big fan of the ocean, but he didn't mind lakes at all, so often times he and I would go boating around the lake with my older cousins. Alex and I would sneak out at night and walk on the hot roads barefoot until we ended up at a gas station, where we would buy ice tea and chips, then walk back. Alex was the lightest skinned person there, but he and my fully black great grandma were best friends. He knew the secret ingredient to a family recipe for coconut custard before I did. Some of my cousins had very different opinions on immigrants, but Alex always held his tongue. At night Alex and I would sometimes take a paddleboard out to the middle of the lake and stargaze. It was always so pretty. I loved those nights with Alex.

"Where to now?" I ask as Alex and me near the exit of the museum.

"Well, first I have to give you your next present," Alex states, pulling me towards a bench. We both sit down next to each other and Alex starts rummaging through his bag.

"How many did you get me?" I ask.

"After this one there's only, like, three more," Alex says, smiling at me.

"Oh god. Okay, let's see this one," I say, smiling.

Alex pulls out something wrapped in silver tissue paper. It's about the size on my laptop and two inches thick. Alex hands it to me. "I hope you like it."

I rip off the paper to see the cover of a book. 'Modern Art' is all it says, and it's accompanied by a red square and a yellow square. I gasp and stare at it for a second, then up to Alex. He's smiling at me expectantly. For a moment, I'm shocked, then I dive into Alex, this time actually knocking him over.

"Thank you! Oh my god, how did you find this? I've been looking for this book for ages!" I exclaim. And it's true. This book is a very rare book about modern art in the seventies and eighties. Alex has watched me search and fail to find it over the past year. But here it is, in my hands. Waiting to be flipped through, studied, read.

Alex shrugs. "It took some digging. I found it on eBay and after staying up until three, aggressively bidding against some douche, I got it."

"Oh my god, how much money did you spend on this?" I shriek.

"Unimportant, there's a million things I could've done with that time but this is what I did," Alex says, placing his hand over my mouth.

I smile and kiss his fingers. "Okay. Now I want to see our next destination."

"It is our final destination if that's okay," Alex says. "Well, final, and then our dorm."

I nod and smile, standing up and then handing him my book so he can place it in his bag. Alex and I link arms and he leads me to the subway. It's not too far from where we are, so the walk is short and quiet. It's about four pm, but my feet are tired from the walking Alex and I have done today. So, sitting down on the subway and hearing Alexander tell me we have about an hour ride is something that couldn't have been sweeter to hear. I place my arm around Alex and we sit quietly on the train. He leans into me, placing his hand high up on my thigh. Chills go down my spine as he traces circles on my skin and I begin to think about anything but Alexander and how close he is and how high up his hand is.

I don't remember dozing off, but I do remember waking up to Alex's soft voice. I opened my eyes and remembered we were still on a train. I blink a couple of times and look over at my smiling Alexander. His chocolate brown eyes gently stare into mine. A few bits of hair fall into his face, making him look messy and angelic at the same time. For a moment, I just want to kiss him, but then I remind myself we're still figuring things out. I'm moving too fast. So, instead, I just smile back and brush a few bits of his hair away from his face.

"Alexander," I whisper quietly.

"John," he says, his hand reaching up and touching my cheek, then his fingers tracing my skin down to my lips. "It's almost our stop."

I kiss his forehead and chuckle, then feel the train come to a halt. "Is this us?"

Alex nods and we stand up. He takes my hand and leads me up from the subway to the street. The sun is starting to get lower on the horizon, making everything feel warm and happy. I feel so content. I don't think there's anywhere else I would want to be right now. I think I've found everything I need right here, holding my hand, leading me to God knows where. Finally, though, we turn a corner and I'm facing a beach. My eyes widen for the millionth time today and I look at Alexander.

"Well, I decided that maybe the three of us should spend some time on the beach together," Alex says, smirking mischievously.

"The three of us?" I question.

"Oh, yeah. You, me, and a bottle of Rosé," he replies, smirking at me.

"You know me so well," I tell him. We slip off our shoes and make our way across the sand to a nice spot. Alex pulls out the Rosé and two cups, then gives us each a nice amount. The alcohol is sweet and gentle on my tongue, dancing across my lips and entering my stomach kindly. I sigh as I look over to see Alex sipping it.

"How has your birthday been so far?" Alex asks me as I finish off my glass and reach for the bottle again. Alex seems to have finished off most of his too so I make a note to pour him some after I pour mine.

"It's been wonderful. You truly outdid yourself this year, Hamilton," I state.

Alexander sips his freshly topped off glass. "Well, I just figured, it's your birthday, your first one in New York. You're turning nineteen, and this is the first year your parents won't pull you away from me so you can talk to your relatives."

"Ugh, god, don't remind me of that hell hole. All my aunts asking me questions. 'What are your grades like?' They asked about things nobody wanted to know," I joke.

"Remember that time I dressed up as Marilyn Monroe to sing you a sexy happy birthday in high school and I was like, wearing a camisole tank top, a neon pink bra, and a thong? And like, I was dancing and your mom walked in right as I pulled down the tank top to just show you my flat chest in a bra?" Alex reminds me.

"And then she wouldn't stop asking me if we were together, for like, three weeks. Yes, Alexander, I remember very clearly," I snark, nudging him. I finish off my second glass and pour myself a third. Alex does the same.

"Do you ever miss South Carolina?" Alex asks me.

I take a sip of the sweet alcohol in my glass. "Not at all. I haven't been called a nigger the entire time I've been here. You haven't been told to go back to your country. Hell, I've met people who are Puerto Rican. It's amazing. I miss my mom and dad, but I'm going to see them on holidays. But that's it. Do you?"

Alex slams down what's left in his cup. "God, no. No disrespect to your home state but I hated it. I hated the Caribbean. I've hated everywhere I've lived until New York. You're the only reason I stayed in South Carolina."

"I am?" I ask as Alex pours us more of the liquor.

He nods. "Couldn't be without my best friend."

I smile and lean again him a bit, which causes him to tip over, and me to fall too. Luckily I grabbed the wine and we both save our cups from spilling. Alex begins cackling and rolls on his back so I'm lying on my stomach between his legs, my head about level with his chest. I sit up and pull him up with me, then sit him so he's straddling my lap.

"You, are drunk," I state. Alex has always been a bit of a lightweight, but so have I.

"So are you!" Alex accuses.

"It's my birthday. I have an excuse," I state. Alex and I finish off our glasses and so I pour some more for both of us. The bottle probably only has about two more cups in it, so it was nice to know we made it count.

"John," Alex slurs a bit, sipping the devil's water.

"Yes, beautiful?" I answer, my lips trailing across his neck as I speak.

Alex takes another sip. "Are you gay?"

I giggle. "I'm asexual, dummy."

Alex places his hand on my cheek so I meet eye contact with him. "No, but like, romantically. Are you gay?"

I stare into his gorgeous brown eyes, his soft lips, his slight stubble, the bags under his eyes. And I make a decision. "I don't think I'm just attracted to guys. Because, really, there's only one guy who's ever brought butterflies to my stomach. Whose touch has melted me. Whose eyes have hypnotized me. I don't like boys. I just like one boy."

"Which boy?" Alex asks quietly.

"You," I whisper.

Alex giggles. "You like a boy. I want more wine."

I smile and place a gentle kiss on Alex's jaw. "We'll drink our last cup together."

"I want to make a toast!" Alex says, the low hanging sun shining warmly against his cheeks. "John, I have known you since I was twelve. Not only have you befriended me, but you have taken advantage of my heart's vulnerability. I wish I could say it was well done, but that's not true. But you, you John Laurens, you have captured me. I am purely and utterly disgusted with everything in this world but yourself. So, my dearest, John, to love. Because that is all we have, and all we need."

"Cheers!" I say, clinking out cups together.

We finish off our glasses and then stand up. It's not in the best attempts but soon enough we are stumbling on the train. Alex only has his left shoe on and mine are not tied, but we just sit down on a seat and laugh. No one is in our cart, so for the majority of the ride we pole dance, try to subway surf, which is just trying to stay standing while the subway goes around turns and speeds up and slows down. By the time we've got to our stop, Alex is grinding the pole you hold onto while belting the lyrics to Do You Hear The People Sing from Lés Miserables.

"Cannons!" He yells, bursting out of the doors of the train.

We big singing in unison. "Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men! It is the music of the people who will not be slaves again! When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drum, there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!"

Walking down the street of New York kinda buzzed while all the funky night people come out is something that I cannot describe. Everything feels light and happy. I'm holding hands with Alex. We are both smiling. We are happy. Even our quiet campus can't hush our laughs and joy. It is rather unfortunate though that someone approaches us right as Alex body slams a tree on accident. The tree made sure he didn't fall.

"Alex, John." A voice I recognize speaks.

"Professor Washerman. Hi!" I squeak, smiling like an idiot.

"Dad! Hi Dad!" Alex says rather loudly, running over and hugging Washington.

"Are you two drunk?" He asks.

I shake my head and hold up three fingers. "We are making boy scout promises. I pinky swear. We have never even touched alcohol."

"Never! Like how I have never touched my own dick," Alex spits out.

"I am going to walk you to your dorms now," Washington states, laughing.

"Dad!" Alex whines. "You're embarrassing me."

"Hush Alexander. I'm just making sure you get home safe. May I ask what your poison was?" The older man places his right hand on my shoulder and his left hand on Alex's shoulder, beginning to guide us to where we need to be.

"Rosé," I state. "It's my birthday today."

"Happy birthday, John," Washington smiles.

"Dad, I have a secret," Alex loudly whispers.

"Yes?" Washington questions.

"I love John, don't tell him. I know you guys are friends," Alex whispers loudly.

"Don't worry Alex, your secret is safe with me," Washington says.

We finally make it back to our dorm and Washington bids us adieu. Alex opens the door and we see a large sheet cake sitting on my bed with a note from Laf in French. I pay no attention to it and take the plastic covering off the cake as Alex gets his laptop so we can watch porn. I grab two plastic forks that Alex and I have been washing and reusing since they're our only silverware and dig into the cake. Alex pulls up so weird alien porn and the two of us sit together and eat cake, feeling peaceful as ever, and slightly awkward due to the fact that both of us have a slight boner over Jabba The Hutt and Princess Leia porn.

Alex and I make it through about seventy-five percent through the cake before we pass out. And I know that because that's how we woke up. On my bed, kinda covered in cake, and just the regular add sounds of Pornhub in the background. Since it was Sunday and our hangovers could not be nursed by all the water in the world, we spent most of the day in my bed, eating cake and talking about last night. After singing Lés Miserables on the train, we don't remember much. But that's okay. Because I was with him. And that's all I needed.


	10. Happy Halloween you gay motherfuckers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DIDNT PUBLISH THIS CHAPTER SO PRETEND THE CHAPTER BEFORE THANKSGIVING NEVER HAPPENED

/John/

Halloween. My favorite day of the year. I'm getting more excited by the minute as Laf puts the finishing touches on Alex's makeup. Alex and I have been in Laf's dorm for the past hour, getting ready and getting out makeup done. Laf is an amazing makeup artist. Mine and Alex's faces look practically flawless. He and I are both wearing black jeans and black dress shirts. We look really good. Laf hasn't shown us his costume yet, and neither has Herc. They're both just walking around in big robes. I do know that Laf's is something that is very noticeable because why else would he be wearing glitter eyeshadow and highlight brighter than my future.

"And, done," Laf says, setting down his makeup brushes.

"Wow," Alex gasps, looking into the mirror.

"You look awesome," I state.

"Are you guys ready to see the costumes Herc made?" Laf asks.

I nod and watch as Herc and Laf turn so their backs are to us, then drop the robes. Both of them look to wearing baseball uniforms. Her is wearing regular baseball pants, fitting to his toned legs nicely. Laf, on the other hand, is wearing what looks more to be underwear than shorts. Then, on the back of their blue and white baseball shirts, it says what position they play. Herc's says pitcher, Laf's says catcher.

"Wait do you guys actually place pitcher and catcher? You like baseball?" Alex says, innocently.

"Alex, baby, they aren't talking about baseball," I say quietly as Herc and Laf turn around to face us, smiling cheekily.

It takes a second for Alex to realize what I'm saying, but when he does he is utterly shocked. His eyes widen and his jaw drops. He stares at a smirking Herc and Laf. "You guys, you, that's a, you mean, hold on."

"What? It can't be a surprise. I mean, come on, you really think I could top?" Laf snorts, leaning down to look at his makeup again in the mirror.

"What? Oh my god, okay, what, okay. Sorry, I'm just thinking about you guys have sex now. Is it good? Don't answer that. Is it kinky? Don't answer that either. Sorry, lots of thoughts running through my brain right now," Alex stutters.

Herc laughs. "Yes, it is good, and yes, it is kinky."

I cover my ears. "Okay! Don't make it any harder not to drink tonight!"

"You're not drinking? John? Is that you?" Laf says, creasing his eyebrows.

I roll my eyes. "Alex promised he'd stay the whole party as long as I stayed sober. And because I want this beautiful tater tot to have fun at his first college Halloween party, I am staying sober."

"I'm gonna try to get him to drink so I can leave," Alex jokes.

"You better not," I snap, pointing an accusing finger at him.

He holds up his hands in surrender. "I won't, I won't."

"Come on you dry gays, we have a party to catch," Laf states. Herc smacks his butt and we all walk out of the dorm. Alex and I lace our fingers together while Herc and Laf grope each other's asses in front of us all the way to the party. It's being held at the Schuyler sisters apartment. Growing up they've not had to experience the idea of lower class, so a dip into their trust fund landed them this stunning apartment. It was large and expansive. We heard music booming from down the hallway. When we walked in we were greeted by a very real party scene in college. People were fucking, people were dancing, people were drinking. It was amazing.

"Herc, baby, I smell pot. Let's go," Laf says, linking his hand with Herc's and pulling him through the crowd.

I glance over at Alex and see him with a look of anxiety on his face. I place my hand on his lower back. "You wanna dance with me, kitty?"

"I can't dance," Alex says.

"Oh don't worry, all you have to do is move your hips to the beat with me," I say. Suddenly, Alex's token stripper song comes on. He gets a devilish smile on his face and confidently struts to the dance floor.

When Alex and I were in high school, we picked out our stripper songs and made up dances to them. Mine wasn't too good, but Alex, Alex's was perfect. He says he can't dance, and with any other song, he cannot, but the moment Shake That Ass by Eminem comes on, I swear, the boy turns into a totally different person.

I watch as Alex starts swinging his hips. He draws a bit of attention when he slaps the floor and then runs his hands up his legs seductively. I walk a little closer and watch as my friend starts grinding. More people are watching too. He smacks his ass and then starts getting more into it when the pre-chorus comes on. People are cheering as he lets out his hair and whips it. The chorus is about to come on when he pulls me out with him. I don't know what to do but I'm utterly in shock when Alex turns around and start to twerk into my front, perfectly on beat. My eyes widen and I quickly grab his hips, hoping to be as encouraging as possible.

For the rest of the song, I am merely a prop to Alex's strip show. I have no problem with it though, and by the end, people are cheering and laughing. Alex smiles at me, his face bright red, and then pulls me off the dance floor. I'm still flustered so I quickly grab a water bottle and down it. I know a slight boner as formed, and I know Alex felt it.

"Wow," I say as Alex approaches me. "You never did anything like that in high school. Hell, you've never done anything like that in front of more people than me. Where has slutty Alex been all my life? Wow."

Alex laughs. "None of these people know who I am. And they won't be able to recognize me anyway without the makeup, so it doesn't matter. I hope that didn't make you feel uncomfortable or anything, I was just kinda flowing, ya know?"

I shake my head, chuckling. "That made me feel a lot of things. Uncomfortable was not one of them. This is the best party I've ever been too."

"You got hard," Alex points out, smiling cheekily.

My face turns bright red. "Alex!"

He smiles and gently runs his hand across my chest. "I know. I'm hot."

I roll my eyes and we walk through the crowd towards the couch. Laf, Herc, Jefferson, and Madison are all passing around a pipe. Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy are sharing a bong. The air is thick with the sweet scent of marijuana. Alex and I sit down next to Laf, who is wrist deep in Herc's pants at the moment.

"Hey guys," Alex says.

"Alex, holy fuck. You just grinded on John! In front of so many people!" Jefferson says loudly. "You're gay!"

Alex rolls his eyes. "Thank you, Thomas."

"Did you know Thomas and I once dated?" Laf says, a serious tone in his voice.

"What? Bullshit," I state.

"No, we did. Because I was in love with Madison and Laf was single and I needed to get my mind off Madison so I went to France and fucked Laf and then we were technically in a relationship, but we both just sent nudes back and forth. And then I cheated on Laf and he cheated on me and we both are okay with it," Thomas states.

"Thomas, you're a dick, but you're also my best friend," Laf says, his hand moving a bit faster under Hercules' pants.

"Lafayette, you are jerking off your boyfriend in front of us," Eliza squeaks.

Lafayette laughs. "I am, aren't I? What a wild world it is."

Alex and I spend the rest of the party in that area. Eventually, Alex agrees that drinking and getting high are different and we promptly roll a blunt to share. And then another. And a third. And so by the time the party is done, we are both feeling pretty spacey. We are stumbling down the street back to our dorm, singing lyrics from Moana.

"What can I say, except you're welcome!" Alex yells, dancing around. I laugh at him and we walk into a dorm building. We make it to the elevator and laugh at our distorted reflections. Our makeup is running from the tears that won't stop. We just can't stop laughing. When we get to our dorm I try my key but it won't work. So I keep trying, and trying until someone opens the door.

"What are you doing in our dorm?" I ask, shocked by this strangers face.

"This is not your dorm," they laugh. "What are you, freshman?"

I nod, Alex still holding onto me.

The stranger smiles at us. "Lemme take you two back to your dorm. You seem too high to function." They stick their head back into the dorm. "Mary dear, I'll be right back. I gotta escort some freshman to their dorm."

"What is your name?" Alex asks, seemingly in awe.

"I'm Robert Livingston. You're Alex, right?" Robert says.

"How did you... Witch!" Alex yells, hiding behind me.

Robert rolls his eyes and begins walking, us trailing behind him. "I'm not a witch. I just know you from our law class. I sit in the back with Roger Sherman and John Hancock. We're part of the students that don't bother with petty arguments and actually just focus on our work."

I poke Alex's side. "You are a mischief maker."

Robert laughs. "He really is. I watched this guy dive over a row of seats just to beat the shit out of Charles Lee. Washington walked in on that and honestly look tempted to walk right back out. I gotta admit, law class is quite entertaining. You and Jefferson are both very interesting people."

"Jefferson is a fucking pussy," Alex points out.

"And you are a preening, thin-skinned schemer," Robert shrugs. He realizes quickly after those words leave his mouth that Alex is willing to fight him. "I am just quoting what I've heard. I don't know you do I'm not going to make an assumption. You seem pretty cool right now, but I'm guessing you're just really high."

"Actually I'm only five foot eight," Alex corrects.

"He grinded on me," I blurt out.

"John!" Alex says quite loudly and Robert guides us out.

"You were being a stripper! I needed to tell someone!" I shout out.

"Wow, you guys are telling me way more than I need to know," Robert says, shaking his head and guiding us towards the door of another building.

"I tend to talk way too much," Alex states. "People should talk more. It would make me seem less like a pushover."

"You don't seem like a pushover. When I first got to know you I thought you were a fascist hard-ass," I state.

Alex hits my arm. "Hey!"

"A cute fascist hard-ass, but, you just give off this very-"

"Here is your dorm," Robert says, cutting me off from digging myself deeper into this hole. I silently thank the gods when my key works.

"Thank you, Robert. We would not have made it home without you. Most likely we would've ended up passing out on the grass somewhere. Alex has never been to a college Halloween party," I keep talking. I'm almost like Alex. Usually when I'm high, I'm with Alex, lying in a bed together, talking about anything that comes to mind. I'm not much of a party smoker, so I've never been in many situations where I'm supposed to find my way home while high.

"Alex," I whisper as we both struggle to remove Laf's perfectly crafted makeup. "We have made a bit mistake getting high with this kind of art on our skin."

"We truly have," Alex agrees.

Eventually, we give up, our faces smudged and messy. Because Alex is afraid of staining our pillowcases, we ball up some towels and lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling. I hold Alex's hand gently and sigh. I was to pull him towards me and kiss him softly. I want to hold him and call him mine and make sure the world knows it. Make sure my dad knows it. Throughout my childhood, it was in his greatest attempts to make sure I remained as heterosexual as possible. Sometimes I felt as if the only reason he talked to me was to make sure I wasn't dating Alex. I did lie a couple of times about having a girlfriend, just to get him off my back. I would go on 'dates,' which would consist of Alex and I buying an entire pizza and watching a drive-in movie.

"I think I'm gonna come out this Thanksgiving," I say out of nowhere.

"Wow, that's a lot to process," Alex says, rolling so he's facing me.

"Alex, I can do it." I roll to face him.

He smiles, placing his hand on my cheek. "I don't doubt you." Suddenly, he slams his hand on the floor and gasps. "I didn't tell you what Lafayette has been doing!"

"What?" I say, startled by his sudden outburst.

"He has stopped calling Washington professor and literally just calls him dad," Alex tells me, laughing. "Seriously one day he just walked in and was like 'wassup dad' and Washington at first was really confused but now he's like, just playing along with it. And it's not like Laf makes a big scene out of it or anything. He'll just fucking raise his hand and be like, 'hey dad, can you explain this to me?' And Washington just thinks it's fucking normal!"

I laugh. "He is kind of a father figure, believe it or not, Alex."

"But like, Laf is calling him dad?" Alex seems bewildered.

I chuckle at him. "Well, Laf grey up without a dad and Washington has taken to him, like he's taken to you."

Alex shakes his head. "I could, I don't, dads are weird."

"Well, you deserve a father figure, and Washington would be that for you if you didn't get butthurt every time he called you son," I point out.

Alex scoffs and smiles. "We've already talked about this. I agree it was an overreaction."

I sigh and roll on my stomach, burying my face in the towel. "It's bedtime. Goodnight Alexander, you're the closest friend I've got."

"My dearest, Laurens, I am disgusted with everything in this world but yourself."

And that's the last thing I hear before I pass out.


	11. Do something, make a move, don't freeze

/Alex/

Two days before Thanksgiving. Two days from break. I'm excited, to say the least. I love Thanksgiving with John's family. They're always so nice, and everyone is so pleasant. I've been having Thanksgiving with them since I moved into the neighborhood. A couple years I tried to skip it, telling John I was just tired or didn't want to intrude, but he would not let me spend the holiday eating cold refried beans from a can while watching Golden Girls repeats. He told me that by moving to America I signed up for all the bullshit holidays and traditions. I then proceeded to shout 'fuck America! Viva la France!' And then started to sing music from the Les Miserables. John claims I'm a francophile, at least he knows I know where France is.

I'm walking home from class alone, knowing at this point John is already at the dorm, sprawled out and tuning out an episode of Bob Ross while he does homework. We've fallen into a bit of a habit. John comes home at four fifteen and I at four thirty. When I get there John is already studying or doing homework, so I sit down and study or do homework with him until about six when we find some food. After that John finishes up whatever he needs to finish up and I continue studying until about nine or ten. Around ten John tells me it's time for me to take a break and sleep, so we both shower, get ready for bed, and look at memes together for a while, then fall asleep. The college has provided us with a very livable weekday pattern.

I walk into the dorm to see John lying on his bed, his phone pressed to his ear. He mouths the word 'mom' to me and I nod, then quietly sit down and open a book. I don't pay much attention to the book when I hear John's tone change.

"Mom, what are you trying to say?" John says, an edge in his voice. There's a pause. "Mom, that's not fair. You can't just use this as an excuse." Another pause. "Why not?" A quick pause. "That's a stupid reason." Silence. "That's not fair. He has nowhere else to go."

I suddenly feel as if they're talking about me. And I suddenly get a very unsure feeling in my stomach about where I'll be spending Thanksgiving this year. I try to focus on the book in front of me and ignore what John is saying but it is very difficult as he is getting progressively louder and he is not too far away from me.

"Fine," John finally snaps. "See you in a few days."

"Are you good?" I ask as he throws his phone on the floor and lets out a long sigh.

"Well, I got some bad news," John says, getting up and walking over to me. He sits down next to me with a huff and places his arm around me. "It's about Thanksgiving."

"Your parents don't want me coming," I guess.

John sighs. "I'm sorry. You heard me, I tried to change their minds."

I shrug. "It's fine."

John pauses, looking at me. "You seem oddly fine about this."

I shrug again. "What? It's your family. I've spent a fair amount of holidays with them. I can spend Thanksgiving somewhere else. Washington offered."

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, hugging me close to him.

"It's fine, John, it's not in your control." I sit up, brushing his arm off my shoulder. "I'm gonna go shower."

"Alex, are you okay?" John asks, grabbing my wrist to stop me from walking any closer to the bathroom. His grip is soft but stubborn.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I ask, looking back at John and praying he can't see the shine in my eyes.

"I don't know, you just, you don't seem okay," John states, running his thumb across my hand. His eyes look kind and he has a look of empathy plastered on his face.

For a second, I consider letting myself break down in his arms and let him hold me until I feel better, but then I shake the thoughts from my head. "I'm fine, John."

I pull my arm away from him and make my way to the shower. The moment I turn the water on I start crying. My heart hurts as I step under the cool water. John's family was the only family I really had for a while. His parents would buy me presents for Christmas, hell, I would even go back to school shopping with them. I was like their second kid. And now they don't even want me anymore. Sometimes I do truly feel like I am alone. I feel like I don't have Laf, Herc, Angelica, not even John. I feel like it's my own job to protect myself. And I can feel myself slowly being distanced from John, but he doesn't even know.

I don't wash my hair or body or anything. I just sit on the shower floor and cry. I don't know why this hurts so much. It was only six years of my life. In the long run, it's not going to seem like anything. Just a few minutes in the years I have ahead. So, I decided it was time to stop being pathetic and stand up. I turn off the water and step out. My cheeks are red and my eyes are bloodshot and glossed over. John is going to be able to tell I've been crying. So I fluff up my hair and hope his suspicions don't get the best of him.

"Were you crying?" John says the moment I step out of the bathroom.

"No," I say.

"Alex, talk to me. What's going on?" John sighs as I slip on some sweatpants and a hoodie. "Let me be there for you."

"I'm fine, John," I state, sitting down on my bed.

John comes over next to me and places his hand over laptop so I can't open it. "Alex, I know when you're lying. You're really a terrible liar."

I scoff but lean into him.

"Is this about Thanksgiving?" John asks.

I shrug. "It's dumb for me to get upset."

John hugs me closer to him and begins to run his fingers through my hair. "Well, you spent all of your holidays with my family, and suddenly they don't want you coming. I can understand why that would hurt. I'm really sorry I couldn't change their minds."

I nuzzle my face into his neck. "It's not your fault. It's gonna be weird spending a holiday without you, though. I don't think we've done that since we met. But I can steal all your jokes and tell them to whoever I get dumped on at least."

John chuckles. "Let's FaceTime every day, okay? I'm gonna have to leave on Wednesday morning so I can get there and rest up, then help with dinner."

"Of course. How long are you gonna be there?" I ask.

John shrugs. "I'll come back probably Saturday or Sunday. It'll just depend on what's going on. I'll try for Saturday though."

I nod and snuggle a bit closer to him. For a while we sit there, then I pull out a book and start to read to him. It's just a biography about governmental figures through time, and how they shaped us. It's funny to think that we have two political parties because two guys just really didn't like each other. This country was built by some funky people, I mean, who the hell regifts an alligator? Who the hell spends forty dollars on a coconut?

Soon enough, John is asleep. I decide to say fuck studying and sleep too. It's nice to curl up in his arms. It's nice to be held tight to his chest. He's warm. His heartbeat is steady and comforting. So I have no problem hugging myself closer to him and closing my eyes. And in that dumb, reckless moment, I decide something. Tomorrow, we do something more. I don't know what yet, but tomorrow, we do something more.

The next morning I'm awake before John. I finish up some homework I failed to do last night, get dressed, and sip my coffee and read. John wakes up at six and groggily moves around our room. I watch and chuckle as he trips over something and curses. Finally, he has everything he needs and an extra ten minutes before we leave so he pulls me back into bed. I roll my eyes and let myself become enveloped in his arms. He's never been much of a morning person, but I've always enjoyed the way his voice sounds, the way he looks, acts. I think it's very cute.

Too soon, we are forced to exit our bed and go to class. I hold John's hand tightly and glance over at Jefferson and Madison, who are walking as close as ever. As much as I dislike Jefferson, I do wish he would grow a pair and feel okay enough to be open about his relationship with Madison. I don't know why he isn't, but I'm sure there's one reason or another, no matter how dumb.

When we get to John's class, John pulls me into a hug. His hands land on my hips and I'm happy to have him against me. I don't want to let go, but when he tells me I have five minutes, I'm quick to press a kiss to his cheek and then bolt to Washington's class. I make it there on time and practically collapse into my seat next to Lafayette.

Laf smiles at me. "Hello, Alexander, you look rather flustered," he speaks in French.

I nod and reply in French back to him. "Yes, I think I'm going to make a move on John tonight. I just feel like it's the right time and he's leaving tomorrow anyway."

"You are?" Lafayette's French accent when he's speaking the language gets a lot thicker when he's excited. "Oh my god! Finally!"

I laugh. "I know, I know. I just think I'm ready, and well, I hope he would be open for it."

Laf chuckles. "You have no idea, Hamilton."

"What does that mean?" I ask. Laf is about to answer when Washington interrupts us.

"Boys, English please, this is college not Real Housewives of Paris. And by the way, Alex, good luck," he says.

I blush deeply and then bury my head in my notes. The school day goes on and I get progressively more nervous, so I decide to get home late and talk to Laf about it. We no longer have to speak in French due to the privacy our walk has brought us.

"Well, are you gonna suck his dick?" Laf asks me, sipping the hot chocolate that Herc brought him.

I shake my head. "I don't know how down he is for sexual stuff like that."

"Okay, are you gonna kiss him?" Laf interrogates.

I shrug. "I don't know."

"Well, what are you gonna do?" Laf throws his hands up in frustration, obviously very tired of how coy John and I are.

"I'll figure it out Laf," I state.

"Then why are we on this walk? You said you needed help!" Laf is by now exasperated, to say the least.

"I don't know! I just was getting nervous! I didn't want to go back just yet!" At this point, we are making a bit of a scene but neither of us cares. We aren't exactly the most modest people, me with my opinions and yelling, and Laf with his glitter and colourful sense of fashion.

"Okay mon petit lion, it's time for you to face your best friend," Laf says.

I groan. "Why?"

"Because I'm sick of all the sexual tension between you two. And also Halloween was something you never talked about but holy damn, you were like, grinding on him." Laf downs the rest of his hot chocolate and tosses the cup in the trash.

"Okay, I can do this. I can do this," I pep myself up as we walk towards the dorms.

"That's the spirit, mon ami, just gotta tell yourself that and you'll believe it," Laf explains.

I smile as we approach our doors. "Thanks, Laf, you're a really good friend, you know that? Like, I don't know what I would do without you."

Laf smiles, a small blush coming to his cheeks. "Merci, Alex. That's very nice to hear right now. Good luck mon petit lion-man." He then embraces me. "You got this."

I hug him back for a few seconds and then release him. "Okay, let's go, we got this."

Laf nods. "See you tomorrow, Alex."

I wave and walk into my dorm. I'm ready to flirt the hell out of John, but all I see is a note on his bed. It states that he's headed to the store to pick up some food for me to eat over the weekend since he knows I'm too scared to order anything. I smile at his thoughtfulness and peel off my hoodie from my body, as well as my jeans. I put on a loose pair of sleep shorts and my reading glasses, then lie down on John's bed with my laptop, typing furiously. I'm just working on some extra credit essay for Washington's class. I'm ahead in every class. In my statistics class, I've practically finished the semester work. John says I've been working too much lately, but I just have been a bit stressed about college.

Half an hour later, John walks in with a few bags in his arms. He looks casual, just wearing a pair of grey jeans and a black jacket to protect him from the subtly cooling New York weather. His nose is a bit pink from the air, but he looks normal. His freckles still look as though they were constellations in the prettiest part of the universe, his eyes look at if they held the whole world in them, his smile was as bright as the moon. John is beautiful.

"Hey, kitty, I bought you some food. We don't really have a fridge so I just sort of like, got food that didn't need one. I found that ramen you really liked, and then I got you some chip pretzels, I think. I don't know. They say half chip and half pretzel and I thought since you're bisexual you might like them. If you don't I know Laf will," John rambles, pulling out the food. "I also got you Red Bull but I want to make sure you know that if you brew the coffee with this you will not only have a heart attack, but you will not sleep for days. And I know that's your thing but Alex you do really need to sleep. I beg of you. Also, I found some Kinder eggs and I know that was your shit so I bought you like, ten. They aren't actually eggs because American kids are fucking dumb, but they come close. Also, I got you a can of refried beans and some tortillas because I know how you like to eat those nasty cold ass burritos at three am when you study. I don't know how you can stomach just beans and tortilla but as long as you're eating it's good. Are you paying attention, Alex?"

I'm snapped out of my daze of staring at John by this question. "What? Yeah, I am. Pretzels."

John laughs. "Did you get enough sleep last night? Nevermind, I don't want to know the answer. You're sleeping tonight mister. We both are. Oh god, I have to get up at five with you tomorrow. Fucking Thanksgiving. I'm gonna shower. I guess we can like, store the food in the closet or something, we should buy some shelves or a cabinet or whatever. We're gonna run out of money if we keep eating out. Maybe we could invest in a mini-fridge. Who knows? I'll ask my mom for some money. Anyway, shower."

John slips off his jacket and his shoes and walks into the bathroom. He's nervous about leaving me alone. I can tell. He always talks a lot when he's nervous. Because I don't want John to worry about me, I have set an array of alarms on my phone, reminding me to eat, sleep, drink water, and text John. I don't like it when I stress him out, so I just want to make sure that he has nothing more on his mind during Thanksgiving besides his family.

I close my laptop and begin finding places for the food. I place all but the Red Bulls, which end up on my desk for easy access, in the closet. John did find the ramen I liked and bought me three bowls of it. It's the kind that already has a dish it's in, you just need to add hot water. I don't know how John memorized the type of ramen I liked, but I am happy he did. Whenever John buys food I know we're going to be eating well for the time it lasts.

"Alex!" I hear John call from the shower.

I walk in to see him sticking his head out from the curtain. "Yeah?"

"I talked to Washington about Thanksgiving arrangements for you," he tells me.

"God, you sound like you're discussing the custody of myself between you and Washington," I groan, leaning against the wall.

"I know. I heard it as soon as I said it. Anyway, he said he'll be picking you up around four on Thursday and you will be joining them for dinner. He's having a few other students over, so it's not going to be just you, him, and his wife," John talks.

"And what if I don't want to go?" I smirk, knowing damn well I'll go.

"Then I'll fight you. Come on, please go? Washington seemed excited. He likes you. You're one of his favorites. Seriously I just asked if you could go over and twenty minutes later he's telling me about an essay you wrote," John tells me.

"Okay, I'll go. Thanks," I tell him genuinely.

John smiles. "Sweet. That was it."

I chuckle a bit and leave the bathroom. I'm still walking around in just some boxers, but I don't feel the need to change. It's not like John has never seen me in just my boxers. So, deciding that it was best to make a move on him, while half-naked, I sit down on his bed and grab my phone. I scroll through Twitter, liking a few things, retweeting some stuff, until John finally comes out of the bathroom. His hair is damp, and he just adorns a towel. His body is so beautiful. Not buff, but toned and muscled. I don't know what I'm even doing. He's so, he's so pretty. I just, I can't stop staring.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," John jokes, slipping on his boxers. He's about to put on a tee shirt when I speak up.

"John, wait," I say.

He looks at me, cocking his head.

Don't think, Hamilshit, do.

Those words ring through my brain as I stand up and walk closer to John. He looks like a god. His hair is loose, hanging at his shoulders, his skin is smooth and warm. He looks almost like a statue until I touch him. The moment my hand gently wraps around his wrist, a blush creeps up from his neck and into his cheeks. His mouth falls open a bit and he lets out an audible gasp. The tee shirt falls from his hands and I gently pull him closer to the bed. We're both blushing furiously, and we're both trying to figure out what we're doing. We've never done anything like this before. He seems like putty in my hands because when I lead him to the bed, he lies down on it, on his back, without me doing or saying anything. He reaches out and grabs my hand, and for a second I just have to stare at him. He's so, flawless.

I climb onto the bed and sit so I'm straddling his hips. I place my hand on his chest, right below his collarbone, and then trail it down a bit. The only thing I can hear is his breathing and my heartbeat ringing in my ears. I carefully lean down, maintaining eye contact with him, and place a gentle kiss on his chest. I drag my lips up his skin carefully, bringing them to his collarbone, where I gently began sucking on the soft area. John's hands ran down my sides until they landed on my thighs. I sucked on his collarbone, nipping it until a small love bite was formed. Then I moved up a bit, right where his neck met his shoulder. I was doing a pretty good job and maintaining no boner but that changed really fast when John moaned.

"Alex." He was breathy, his voice was deeper, gravely almost. It feels like encouragement so I keep sucking, biting, and kissing his neck. I don't leave largely noticeable hickeys, just small little love bites. John's hands have immigrated from my thighs to my ass and have been grinding me against him a bit.

"John, oh god," I moan against his skin as he grinds against me. My face flushes. I've never moaned like that. As a horny teenage boy, I did have my fair share of time when my right hand was my best company, and I'm not the quietest, but John's name never slipped from my mouth. I feel almost embarrassed as it does.

John seems to respond positively though and attempts to flip us, but it takes a bit of adjusting to get comfortable. I laugh a bit, adjusting myself so I'm lying flat on my back with John above me. John smiles his cheeks bright red. I've never seen him look so shy. He's never been one to back down to anything, but right now, he looks vulnerable. It makes butterflies dance in my stomach and my heart beat out of my chest to see him like this.

"You're beautiful," John whispers. I feel self-conscious as his fit and muscled self stares at my small, somehow bony and pudgy body. My ribs don't hesitate to poke out while the pouch of fat on my stomach remains clear. My proportions have always been off when it comes to body fat placement. While John hit the gym, I wrote. Health was never my main concern, but I never really had a chance to be self-conscious about my stomach until now. Discomfort almost begins to plague me until John leans down and begins attacking my neck. I'm a moaning mess after that.

My nails rake down poor John's back as he bites and nips my skin. His hips grind against mine, creating feelings I've never quite felt before. John is whispering curses against my skin as his lips poison me. I know there are probably multiple hickeys on my neck by now. Not the cute small love bites I left him, but big, noticeable hickeys. But I don't mind. I don't have the energy or focus to mind. All I can think of is the way John's body feels against mine.

"Oh, whoa," I gasp out, my fingers digging into John's back a bit more.

John pulls away from what must be a fair amount of large hickeys on my neck and looks at me. His eyes are so pretty. "I think we should stop here."

I nod, smiling dreamily. "Okay."

John's cheeks are bright red as he presses a small kiss to my forehead. "That was..."

"Perfect," I finish.

He rolls off me and onto his side, facing me. "I couldn't have worded it better myself."

I roll so I'm facing him, our foreheads almost touching. "I think I could get used to this."

John's hand lands on my cheek and his thumb gently runs across my skin. "I could too."

I close my eyes, holding onto John's other hand. "Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my dear Laurens, it be in my power, rather in actions than words, to prove..." I trail off at the end, not ready to say everything I'm thinking.

"To prove what?" John asks.

I sigh and kiss his forehead. "To prove that I am disgusted by everything in this world but yourself."

John smiles, cuddling closer. "I love it when you say that."

"Say what?"

"I am disgusted by everything in this world but yourself," John quotes. "I love it when you say that. It's so pretty coming from you. It's like, your accent shows through your words, you speak on a beat, your tone changes. It's just, I feel so safe when those words leave your mouth. I treasure every time you say that."

I run my fingers through his hair gently. "I'm glad."

John chuckles. "Your neck looks like outer space."

"Thank you, galaxy boy."

We lie there for a little bit, letting the evening light lengthen the shadows on our floor, then John realized he had some homework he needed to turn in online before eight, which was about twenty minutes away. So he pulled out his laptop and started working on that while I worked on something for Washington's class. And the rest of our night goes by like that. John crashes at nine, knowing he has to get up at five and knowing that he won't be able to deal with his family with less than eight hours of sleep. I stay up later though, one of my hands running through John's hair while I watch online lectures to help me get ahead in a class. Around midnight I'm finally turning off my laptop though and cuddling up into John's arms. It was a good day.

I wake up at four thirty the next morning. One line of sunlight hits the back of John's head and hits me right in the face, so I guess the universe is telling me to make sure John has all his stuff ready. Which, of course, he doesn't. So, I use the thirty minutes before John's alarm goes off to lay out some good driving clothes for him, pack up his toiletries, and make sure he has his computer, charger, and turtle plush. Deciding that he deserves a bit more, I quickly scrawl out a short but sweet letter for him and then place it next to his socks.

An old punk song comes on and I look over at John, who doesn't seem to quite be waking up to it just yet. Finally, though, it gets to the chorus and John opens his eyes and sits up. I already have his thermos full of coffee, and I've made sure he has a Red Bull too, just in case. I know John isn't the most morning person, considering that for a little bit he just sits there and stares out into space, before turning and shutting off his buzzing phone. I can see the small love bites on his chest and neck. It causes a wave of pride to wash through me. That's right, I got him. Out of everyone who could've done it, I did it.

"Morning, babe," he mumbles, standing up and stretching.

"Morning. I have your coffee ready and I laid out some clothes for you. Also, you didn't pack any of your shower stuff or bathroom stuff so I got that, as well as your laptop charger. And your turtle plush is in there too. Seriously, John, packing is not your forte." I smile at him, knowing that morning John gets easily confused when I talk a lot.

"Ugh, Alex. I want you to come. Where's my coffee?" He asks. I smile and hand him the thermos. For a second, he doesn't drink it, just holds it and inhales the aroma, but then he takes a sip and lets the bitter liquid slide down his throat. "Thank you."

"Of course," I tell him.

John gets up and groggily walks over to me. I can tell he's waking up a bit more, but it takes time. I don't know what else I expected him to do, but I was surprised when he pulled me against his arms tightly and held me close to him. It's nice. I can hear his heartbeat, I can feel his warmth, I can smell his cologne. It's so comforting to just be held by him. Some nights, as a kid, John's hugs were the only thing that kept me going.

"Wait, don't pull away just yet," I whisper when I feel John start to release me.

"Alex, I have to get ready," John whispers, hugging me tighter to his body and burying his face in my neck. "You are the best distraction I've ever had."

I smile deeply and hug John as tight as I can. I love the way he feels against me. I love the way he holds me. I love him. God, I'm in love with John. I've told him I love him before, but I've never told him I'm in love with him. I've never told him that I just want to hold him and kiss him and call him mine and keep him in my arms forever.

Finally, John and I let go. He pressed a long kiss to my forehead, and then left me in just my underwear, blushing like crazy, while he went and grabbed his bags. Much to John's protest, I slip on a hoodie and some basketball shorts, as well as some Vans slip-ons. John only has a duffle bag and a backpack, so slipping his arm around me is an easy task. The walk to the parking lot isn't long, but it's nice to be with John. When we get to the truck, we throw his stuff in the back and we both walk over to the driver's door.

"Hey," John says, taking my face in his hands. "Be safe, please?"

I nod. "I will John. I promise."

"I'll Facetime you tonight, around eight or nine maybe?" John says, absent-mindedly stroking my cheekbone.

I nod. "Sounds good. Saturday or Sunday is when you're coming back, right?"

John nods. "I'll see you soon, Alexander."

"Goodbye, my dearest, Laurens," I murmur, pressing my forehead to his. We stay like that for a few minutes, then John releases me and leaves. I wave lightly as he drives away, smiling to myself. I have to snap myself out of my daze to remember that it's time to go inside and get ready. The dorm seems quiet without John, but it still smells like him.

I gaze lovingly at the hickeys he left on me in the bathroom mirror, then go out and raid his closet to find a long sleeve shirt that will fulfill three expectations. One: It will cover my arms and keep me comfortably protected. Two: It will hold the smell of John and comfort me throughout the day, reminding me that he's just a phone call away and I'll see him in just a few days. And three: It will do nothing to hide any of the deep purple bruises along my neck. I eventually find one that suits my needs. It's a maroon long sleeve shirt that not only is well won by John but leaves my neck highly exposed. I then tie up my hair in a ponytail, slip on a pair of jeans, and sit down at my desk. I have another twenty minutes so I finish up an essay for Washington's class. Then, at last, it's time to go.

On my way, I see Jefferson walking alone. He has his head down, his hair messy, and his outfit not looking planned for the most part. He looks like me when I'm running off Redbull and an hour of sleep. And that's usually never good. Especially since Madison isn't with him. Jefferson and I aren't the closest, in fact, we've fought on like seventy-four different things. But Madison has never failed to prove time and time again that he is a very kind person, with very strong and fair beliefs. So, worried about James, I walk up to Thomas.

"Hey," I say.

Jefferson looks at me and laughs. "Damn, who beat your neck with a baseball bat?"

I roll my eyes. "Your mom. Is Madison okay? I noticed he's not with you and I just want to make sure he's not-"

Jefferson cuts me off from rambling about the worst possible scenario. "He's fine. He just had to leave to go to Thanksgiving with his family. I assume John has gone to do that as well?"

I nod. "Yeah, his mom didn't want me there. What about you? Aren't you and James like, childhood friends or something?"

Thomas shrugs. "We are. We began dating in high school though, and one day his mom saw. We kept things between us a secret for two years before college. He's going back to Thanksgiving with a friend of ours, Sally, so he can act as though he's straight. Which, of course, leaves me here."

"Are you going to Washington's house?" I ask.

Another shrug. "He wants me too, I just don't know if I should I feel like I'd be intruding."

"Dude," I start. "I'm going. I think I heard Burr was going too. Come on, don't be alone on Thanksgiving. That's dumb."

Thomas gives me a crooked smile. "You know, for rivals, we really suck at hating each other. Aren't we supposed to like, attack or something?"

I groan loudly. "I had the energy to hate you in the beginning but now I'm running on less than five hours a night and a pot of coffee in the morning. I don't have the time. And besides, it's college. Who actually gives enough of a damn to keep up with petty feuds?"

He nods. "You make a point. And, well, I guess my mind has changed on some things recently. I want to apologize for how I talked about immigrants. It wasn't fair."

I smile. "It's okay, man."

We arrive at class and part ways, Jefferson sitting with a few guys I don't know, and me sitting with Lafayette, Angelica, and Aaron. I don't think Jefferson and I will ever be best friends. He'll never know me like John or Herc or Laf do, but I think we can learn to tolerate each other. And hey, if we don't have to deal with the stress of hating each other, that would be enough.

"Sainte baise!" Lafayette yells loudly, looking at me.

Startled, I end up tossing my notebook back a row. "Holy shit! Laf! You scared me!"

"Look at his fucking neck! What the shit! Holy shit! What the fuck!" Lafayette jerks my head a bit so he can get a better view of the hickeys. "You look like you got a tiny elf on your shoulder and they just beat the fuck out of your neck! Alex oh my god! When you said make a move I didn't think you meant you were gonna go all out!"

"Laf, oh my god, calm down," I say, pushing him away a bit and turning around to retrieve my notebook. "It's just a few hickeys."

"A few? Honey, your neck looks like a galaxy," Angelica points out.

"I think they're pretty," I defend.

Laf nods. "The look suits you. Was it John? It was, wasn't it? Oh my god what happened? Did you kiss? Did you fuck?"

I sigh loudly. "It was John, we didn't fuck, and we didn't kiss. I was in my underwear and he was in his underwear and we just kinda grinded and left hickeys on each other. That was it."

Laf gasps. "You didn't kiss?"

I shake my head. "I liked it. It was nice, not too much, but definitely a sign that we are gonna take it farther. You should've seen his back this morning. It was covered in scratch marks. He looked stunning."

"Aw, look at Alex, he's blushing," Burr teases.

"Our little Alex is crushin'," Angelica encourages.

"Wow, news flash Angie, he's been wanting John's dick since seventh grade." Laf rolls his eyes.

"Marquis De Lafayette! Watch your fucking mouth!" I say.

"Oh wow, Alexander Hamilslut has a hickey, call the fucking news," A sarcastic voice deadpans from behind us.

"The fuck did you just call me you motherfucker?" I snap, turning around. I see Charles Lee and Samuel Seabury looking at us, bored.

"Please, your fuck of the week is gonna be gone by tomorrow," Charles yawns.

"Ha, you don't even know what I'm confessing," I say, laughing almost.

"Faggy has a boyfriend everyone, gather round!" Samuel says, doing jazz hands.

"The fuck did you just call him?" Jefferson snaps from the row in front of them.

"You heard me. You and your dying friend can be labeled the same from what I've heard," Samuel laughs. I have one foot on the back of my chair and I'm getting ready to push off and attack them like I did last time, but a voice stops me.

"Samuel! Charles! Alexander! Thomas! My office! Now!" A voice suddenly booms. I whip around to see Washington standing in the doorway, looking livid. If I get kicked out of class for this I'm not going to Thanksgiving with him. I swear to god, Thomas and I have done nothing wrong. Samuel and Charles are to blame.

I walk down the pathway in front of the other three, feeling rage bubble in my chest. I wanted to kill Sam and Charles. I wanted to hit them. I don't know what Washington is thinking. I'm not taking any fall for this though. I'll quit his goddamn class if I get punished for this.

Even though I'm five foot seven and the rest of them are at least an inch or two above six foot, I make it there first. I'm about to walk by Washington when he grabs my arm. He pulls me close so he can speak at a very low tone and I can still hear him. He's much taller than me but that doesn't stop me from broadening my shoulders and getting ready to snap a quick defense for Jefferson and I. I will not let my honor be dragged through the mud by a man who doesn't even know what has happened.

"Son," he remarks just under his breath.

"I'm not your son," I snap.

He gives me a look that tells me he is one hundred percent done with my bullshit right now and that I need to watch what I say. "I am on your side, I am on Jefferson's side. Go."

I walk into his office and sit down. My heartbeat is in my ears. Jefferson sits next to me and Samuel and Charles sit on a different couch. Washington walks in, closing his door, then sits down at his desk and puts his face in his hands. For a long time, we all just sit there. All we can really hear is Washington breathing. Then he finally looks up.

"Charles, Samuel, you are to leave my class. If I ever hear you speak like that again, I will not be hesitant to call the acceptance committee and convince them to rethink their choice about you two. Go," Washington snaps. The two other men leave, giving Jefferson a chance to speak up.

"I was only defending Alex, and Alex was doing what's right. Sir, with all due respect, any punishment that comes to Alex, you will have to put on me as well. I will not let him take the fall for this," he says.

Washington looks at the both of us. "Are you two coming over for Thanksgiving?"

We both nod, a bit confused.

Washington smiles. "Please, try not to fight. Wear something nice. And don't tell anyone I'm serving wine to students."


	12. Washington? More like Washingdad

/Alex/

Thanks to college, I am poor, unemployed, tired, and usually a little sweaty. If you mix in zero families with that combination, you get me, standing in the bathroom in a bright blue blazer, a white dress shirt, a grey tie, some jeans, and some red All Star sneakers. I don't know how dressed up Washington wanted us to be, but this is as good as I got. I also hope I was not supposed to bring a dish because I hate to break it to you G Wash, but your boy can't cook. I couldn't cook if I had to save my life. I fucked up box macaroni. How the fuck do you do that?

My hair is in a messy bun in the back of my head, but hopefully not too messy. I'm pretty sure I look okay, but I've really never had to try to look nice I guess. Hell, even for prom I wore a hoodie and some jeans. And John's bed. And John. We didn't go to prom. We watched hentai all night. It was much better than prom.

I walk out of my dorm and begin to find my way to Washington's house. Since he's a professor he lives on campus, but that doesn't mean it's any easier for my directionally inept self. Thankfully though, I end up knocking on his door. I'm glad it was his because one time I was trying to find a house I was going to pet sit for and they just wanted to meet me really quick and I accidentally knocked on another door. Needless to say, it was one of my more embarrassing moments in life. I'm glad a situation like that doesn't arise here though.

"Alexander! Hello! Jefferson and Burr are here already, and we might have one more coming but I don't think so. Come in, come in," Martha, Washington's wife, tells me, welcoming me in. I've never felt this welcomed at an almost strangers house, so I smile as I walk down the hall. It's a very modern home, many pictures on the wall. No sign of children, which is almost a relief if we're being honest. Children frighten me. I don't know how to talk to them, and I guess it's socially unacceptable to correct them. Which I think is dumb. If a child says something wrong, they shouldn't grow up believing that is the truth. It will never end well.

"Alexander!" Washington's voice booms and startles me. He is standing in the kitchen with Burr and Jefferson. There is a bottle of wine out. Food aromas are filling up the room. Jefferson is dressed in a purple blazer with some black pants, while Burr wears just a plain black blazer, no tie, and some jeans. I feel a little casual, but if they think that, it doesn't show.

"Hey guys," I smile, walking over and leaning against the counter next to Burr. Washington pours me a glass of red wine and I take a sip to look mature. It tastes like shit, but I try not to let the look show on my face.

"I'm glad you made it," Burr tells me, nodding.

"We all are," Washington clarifies, his eyes flitting momentarily to Jefferson.

"Hey, he's the one who convinced me to come," Jefferson says, holding his hands up.

Washington chuckles. "Don't tell me you two are actually getting along now."

Jefferson and I give him confused looks.

Washington throws up his hands. "Now how will I be entertained? I can't let Alexander launch himself over a few rows of seats to strangle Charles Lee every day."

"He looks like a little squirrel," Thomas comments.

"Charles Lee is a pussy," I mutter.

"Don't let him get to you. He's failing my class. You guys are my top three students," Washington tells us.

I smile, knowing my grade in his class is far above average.

"Boys, out of the kitchen, go sit outside. I need this area," Martha scolds, shooing us out.

"Let's go sit in the backyard, it's a warm night tonight," Washington tells us.

We all make our way out back. It's not a large yard, but it has a deck area with some lawn chairs and a small table. I sit down between Jefferson and Washington. Burr sits on the other side of Washington and we all seem to sigh at the same time. It's not too dark, but dark enough to need the porch light to stay on. Movement from Jefferson causes me to look over and see him pull out a pack of Marlboro Reds. Smoking was an under the radar habit I picked up during high school without John's knowledge, and right now, nothing sounds better than the taste of fresh cut tobacco.

"Can I bum a smoke off you?" I ask.

"Yeah, sure Hamilshit," Jefferson says, the nickname obviously meant to be playful, as he holds out a cigarette.

"Thanks," I say as I stick the extended death stick and pop it in my mouth. I have to lean forward a bit to let him light it, and when he does I'm quick to take a long inhale. Jefferson does the same. I can tell Thanksgiving is stressful for him as well.

"You two smoke?" Washington asks.

I shrug. "Here and there. Don't tell John."

"I have been smoking since eighth-grade professor. Honestly, I don't even want to quit," Jefferson laughs.

"You two should though, it's very bad for you," Washington urges, an almost sad look in his eyes when he speaks.

"No, don't get them to quit. Maybe they'll get throat cancer and not be able to talk anymore and I can actually get work done in your class," Burr jokes.

"Oh baby, I'll always be talking," I say, smoke blowing out of my nose and mouth.

"John doesn't know you smoke?" Jefferson says like he's suddenly come to the realization of what I told Washington earlier.

I shake my head. "He'd just worry, get me to quit, stuff like that. I don't need him worrying about me."

"John loves you," Washington tells me.

I shrug. "I don't know about that."

"You think you've got everybody fooled, don't you? Well not me honey, I've known you too long, and regrettably too well. And no matter how hard you try to deny it, I can tell you care as much about him, as he cares about you. Only you haven't got the big hairy gahoona's to say it." Washington waves his finger at me.

"Well maybe I can borrow some of yours," I joke.

"Well hey, whatever it takes. To admit that you love him. And I know that you do. Despite all your efforts to never let another heart touch yours. That's assuming, of course, you have one. That little persistent kid has somehow gotten in under the wire. And that's what's happened huh? Admit the truth. You love him, don't you? I thought so. Then tell him." Washington seems very sure in what he's saying.

"I'll try," I confirm.

"You boys, you better take advantage of what you have. You both got a lot of love going for you. It's hard to find people who care that much these days," he explains.

I smile. "Thank you."

"You know who I think is a fucking little bitch?" Thomas bursts out.

"Who?" I ask, ready for tea to be spilled.

"Fucking Charles Lee," Thomas says.

"Fucking Charles Lee!" I exclaim, throwing my arms up.

"Fucking Charles Lee," Burr mutters angrily.

A moment of silence.

"Fucking Charles Lee," Washington speaks.

"Aye!" I say, laughing.

"He's such a little bitch, I hate him, god," Burr groans.

"This dude actually has the balls to think he's original too. I've been called a faggot since eighth grade, he ain't special," I critique, a bit of the southern accent I did pick up showing through. I didn't really become southern when I lived down in South Carolina, but the accent stuck with me a bit.

"He's so fucking annoying too. He never takes any goddamn notes, he never pays attention, he's always fucking off, and then he complains that I graded his test wrong when he fails it. Like god damn, if you want good grades, work for it," Washington grumbles, making us all laugh.

"Maybe not as hard as Hamilton over here though," Jefferson laughs.

"Hey!" I say, laughing as I take an inhale of the cigarette.

"Please, you know he's right," points out Burr. "You literally are either fucking John or working on stuff for class."

I sigh. "I wish I could tell you why you're wrong but I can't."

Thomas gasps. "You and John fucked?"

I laugh. "No, no, we haven't even kissed."

"But baby, your neck," he says, giving me a knowing look.

"I'm not talking about my sex life with my father figure right there," I say, gesturing to Washington.

"So I'm your father," Washington says, smiling.

"Father figure," I correct.

"Boys, dinner is ready," Martha says, popping her head out the door.

"Yes! I haven't eaten in six hours! I am starving!" I cheer.

"Well, I made a large amount of food. You kids can take any leftovers with you because I know college is a killer on the credit and getting food is sometimes hard," Marth explains as we all walk in, Jefferson and I stomping out our cigarettes.

"Thomas, how is James doing? I heard he had fallen ill again," Washington states as we all begin to serve ourselves some food.

Thomas shrugs. "I've seen him survive worse. It's just a bit of a cold. He's with family right now so you know their overprotective asses are gonna make sure he rests up and all that. He called me earlier today and sounded pretty sick, but he says it's getting better."

"Well, that's good. I always liked James, he was the level-headed one out of the two of you," Martha jokes. "Aaron, is Theodosia well?"

Aaron nods. "She is. She is in Georgia with her family right now."

Washington nods. "That's good. Alexander, I assume John is doing okay?"

I nod. "He is. He's down in South Carolina right now, where we grew up. He called me last night to inform me that it was still just as boring and awful as ever and that I wasn't missing much."

Aaron laughs. "Couldn't stand to go back to your hometown, Hammy?"

I shrug. "Had no reason to."

Martha takes a sip of her wine. "Do you guys want to hear embarrassing stories about your professor?"

"Yes!" Aaron, Thomas, and I all yell in unison.

"Martha!" Washington whines. "Why?"

"Hush," she scolds, smiling. "Okay, so George and I lived in this small cabin for a while because we used to live in Alaska. It was pretty early in our lives so we were still figuring things out. Anyway, we had a pack of cats living under the cabin. This pack just loves George, and he would always bring them milk. Well one day, George stuck his hand down to give the cats the milk and one of them latched onto him. I hear screaming from outside and I go out." Martha has to stop and laugh for a second. "And George is bopping the cat on the head! Like, he's punching a cat!" At this point Martha is cackling, and so are we.

"You punched a cat?" Thomas asks through laughs.

"It was attacking me!" George defends.

"I'm so fucking done I can't," Aaron chuckles.

"Did you know this man almost got arrested one time?" Martha says.

"Martha these are my law students you can't tell them this story," Washington points out.

"Martha please tell us this story," Thomas begs.

She smirks and sets down her wine glass. "Okay, so this man could procrastinate dying if he tried hard enough. And, unfortunately, that translates into about anything he does. Including taxes. So this man puts off his taxes as long as he can, and one day I get a call from the IRS saying that he could be arrested if he doesn't do them in the next week. So I'm obviously pissed. So pissed, in fact, that I drive all the way to his office, he worked at a small law firm at the time, and I yelled..." Martha looks at Washington expectantly.

"Do your fucking taxes, George!" He answers in a high pitched mocking voice.

"Mock me all you want, he took the day off and did them all," She replies to him.

"Washington, can I ask you something?" I say, sipping my wine again. We've all slowly bee eating our food so Jefferson is reaching for seconds of the macaroni while we speak.

"Yes you can, Alexander," Washington replies, smiling at me.

"What is up with Laf calling you dad?" I point my fork, which has some green beans on it, at him. I've been wanting to know this answer for a while.

Washington shrugs. "He sees me as his dad. He drunk texted me and told me I was his long-lost father. It was an interesting thing, texting drunk Laf."

"Washington is basically the father to all of us," Jefferson points out.

"You think I like being mother hen to all you crazy college kids?" A moment of silence, all eyes on him. Then he breaks. "Okay, fine, I love it. It's like crack to me."

I laugh and sip some more wine. As the night went on, Jefferson, Burr, and I all got progressively drunker, until it was Washington driving us all back to our dorms, wondering why he decided to serve wine.

"Jefferson, have I ever told you that you are beautiful?" I slur a bit, touching his face.

"Alex," Jefferson says, looking soulfully into my eyes. "I know."

"Dad, Jefferson and Alex are being weird!" Burr loudly says.

"Jefferson, Alex, stop being weird," Washington says, sighing.

"I'm in love," I say quite loudly. "John gave me hickeys. I love him. I'm gonna facetime him tonight. I'm gonna tell him all about today and all about how I became best friends with Jeffershit over there."

"Jeffershit and Hamilshit, the best debaters in class. I'm gonna make a poster," Jefferson mumbles, leaning against the window.

"Aaron, this is your stop," Washington says tiredly, pulling over so Aaron can get out of the front seat. In my drunk flurry, I decide to climb up into the front seat right after Aaron gets out. I smirk at him, crossing my arms like a rapper in the nineties.

"This has to be a metaphor for my life," Aaron grumbles. "Goodbye G Wash, stay happy grandpappy."

"Never say that again," Washington laughs. He starts driving and the car is quiet for a bit. My head is pressed against the cool window, staring out as we drive to Jefferson's apartment. I am the only one out of the three who live on campus.

"I'm worried about Madison," Jefferson blurts out.

"Why?" I ask, blowing on the window so I can draw perhaps a penis or curse word.

"He needs to gain weight. He's five foot four and only ninety-five pounds. I looked it up. He has a BMI of sixteen. I'm just, I'm worried. He's already so sickly, he's already struggling, he needs to eat more," Jefferson vents.

"Do you think he avoids eating on purpose?" Washington asks.

Jefferson shrugs. "He forgets a lot. And I know it's not totally his fault, some of the medicine he's on does cause weight loss, but I talked to his doctor about it, and his doctor said that James had no valid reason to be underweight and that it was most likely making things worse. I don't want to bring it up because I don't want him to feel attacked, but I'm just so worried. I don't want him to get hurt, but god, every time I see him naked or just in his boxers or something, it just, he looks like a ghost. I can see his ribs, his spine, his hip bones. God, it's terrifying. I just love him so much, I don't want to lose him."

"John actually had a very similar problem you're going through," I point out, hoping what I'm about to say next will help. "I, much like James, would often forget to eat and I did get pretty thin there for a while. John did worry, much like you. But, he sat me down. He talked to me about it. I wasn't mad or anything, and because I cared about him deeply, I complied with his request for me to eat more, and I felt better when I did. Talk to James about this. If the problem roots deeper than just forgetting, then you help him through it. If it doesn't, then you help him through it anyway."

Jefferson leans forward and places his hand on my shoulder. "Thank you."

"If you guys ever need anything, I'm always here. I care about you kids a lot," Washington tells us. "Never feel hesitant to call me or anything."

"Washington, you are the greatest," I say, reaching over and gently stroking his cheek.

"Hamilton, I'm going to politely tell you to not only take your hand from your face but never ever ever do this again." Washington let's out a deep sigh and glances at me.

"Washington, who do you like better, me or Hamilton?" Jefferson asks.

"Me, obviously," I state.

"Actually, I like both of you very equally. I find that Hamilton's unbiased opinions and the way he will express them without worry of consequence are refreshing and raw, and we need politicians like you because you definitely do not lie. Jefferson, you are very tactical and very sly with your actions. You have a very sneaky way that will be very successful in government without getting you involved with scandals." Washington pulls in front of an apartment building. "Well, Thomas, this is your stop. Please have a good night, and be safe. Okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Alex, I'll see you guys Monday most likely because I am a recluse without James," Thomas says.

"You kids are giving me grey hairs," Washington mumbles as he begins driving again.

"Dude." I give him a dead stare. "You are bald."

"Well if I had hair I'm sure it would be grey," he replies, chuckling. "Alex, on a more serious note, are you okay? You said something about having no one to go to in your hometown but I know you and John grew up very close. Did something happen between you and his family? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

I shrug. "I don't know. They just didn't want me coming. I get it. I spent about six years worth of holidays and they wanted to spend some time with just their son. And they're like, pretty sure John and I are screwing, and I don't think John's parents like that. We aren't screwing. We aren't even together. His parents just, they want to make sure of that."

"Do you two want to be together?" Washington asks.

I sit back and push a few flyaways from my face. "Yeah, we really do. We just have never really, talked about it. It's weird because we have kinda always acted like a couple, just not full on. We have always held hands, been close, stuff like that. We've never kissed or anything though, and well, the hickeys I know you've seen are kind of a first timer thing. I want to be with him, but I think we just need to explore a bit more, you know?"

Washington nods. "I understand that. I like John though. He's nice. You should see the way he talks about you."

"How would you know how he talks about me?" I laugh.

He chuckles. "He has at times come to my office to make sure I'm not overworking you, you're just overworking yourself. And then Thanksgiving plans. He'll ramble sometimes, not as much as you, but still. He's nice though."

I nod and smile. "Yeah, he really is."

Washington pulls in front of the Freshman dorms and looks to me. "Okay Alex, please be safe. I'll see you whenever okay?"

I smile as I open the door. "Okay, bye Washington. Thank you."

"Anytime." He waves at me.

I wave back and walk into my dorm. It's about ten, so I figure John will have retired to his room now, so I pull out my laptop and open Facetime. We Facetimed last night and it was nice. John told me about how his mom and dad were stressing him out, his aunt was being way too intrusive, and he missed me. We reminisced on how the build-up to Thanksgiving was often hard and stressful so usually, we would smoke weed in John's room before dinner, get the munchies, eat, and relax throughout the night. Then how one time one of John's cousins caught us but a rolled up blunt got us out of that shithole. John had also told me that a few members of his family missed me and scolded his parents for asking me to keep my distance. Hearing that made me feel good because I knew that at least some of John's family missed me.

I press the call button and wait. A couple rings go by and then I'm told that he didn't pick up. Maybe he's just, like, busy. So I text him and ask him when and if he can call. Usually, on the rare occasions we've been apart, we Facetime every night. One time, while I had flown out for my cousins funeral, I had a free day so John and I Facetimed all day. We just don't like being apart from each other.

I get a text back from John. 'I can't call tonight.' And that's it. I get a sick feeling in my stomach as if something is wrong, but I let him be and text back an affirmation. I don't get another reply so I assume he is either asleep or doing something. But now it seems that I am left alone to my own imagination and absence of the need to sleep. The idea of studying crosses my mind but I then decide that if I study while drunk it will stick with me. So, instead, I pull out my notebook and write. I have no trouble thinking of what to write either. Thoughts of John race through my head as my pen glides delicately over the paper. I feel as if my heart is being poured out as I write. I use phrases that have left my very lips when discussing John, I use phrases that I do not believe I have ever spoken aloud. I cross things out, I rewrite sentences, until I finally place a final draft on some stationary I purchased for the purpose of sending official-looking letters to Charles Lee telling him to get fucked.

I fall asleep after that, the alcohol lulling me to a warm unconsciousness. I dream of John, his lips against mine, his hands against my body. His soft hair tickling my nose and his eyes staring into mine. Music lightly plays. His face is happy and his eyes are full of joy. He and I are so close, we are one. It's nice.

I wake up feeling warm and happy. I reach over for John but sadly I am only greeted with an empty bed. I groan, missing my sweet boy. At least he'll come back tomorrow or Sunday. I don't think I could last any longer. But I'll have to make it for this next bit, so I pull out my laptop and begin to do some school work. My statistics teacher gave us an extra credit assignment for Thanksgiving break. We basically must learn this way to do a specific type of math and complete the problems while showing work. So, I'm gonna watch a few videos and read a few things before doing the work. I really like math. I like it because it doesn't have a single grey area. You can't be sort of right, you can't maybe have a correct answer, you are either right or wrong. I don't like not knowing. I want to know that I'm right or fix it if I'm wrong. Math is not a guessing game. It's yes or no.

I snap my head up when I hear my doorknob move. No one should be coming over. Herc and Laf are up at Herc's childhood house, spending time with his family. And besides that, I don't really have anyone who would burst in the door randomly. So my heart rate speeds up and I reach over to get a steady grip on the neck of my lamp. My body is rigid as the click of the door being unlocked rings through my head. The doorknob turns and the door itself begins to open. I sit up a bit more, getting ready to throw my lamp. Finally, the door is opened all the way, and I'm shocked at who's ragged and tired looking body stands in the doorway.

"John?"


	13. Family reunions suck, especially if you're gay and in the mood to fuck your best friend (who isn't with you)

/John/

Driving away from Alexander feels wrong. I haven't spent a Thanksgiving, or holiday for that matter, without him in years. He's my best friend, and I don't understand why my family can't take him in. They always have, what's so different about now? What changed?

I grimace as those thoughts run through my head. I know what changed. My dad most likely had everything to do with this. He has never been the most accepting person. He never liked Alexander because he though Alex was gay and was making me gay. He never said this aloud, but it's not like he tried to hide it. He made it all too obvious that he wanted me to date girls, maybe distance myself from Alex. That's why I would always tell him I was going on dates with other girls when Alex and I would go to Friday movie night at the drive in.

I turn on the radio and tap the steering wheel, turning off of the turnpike and onto the parkway. I keep the car fast with the traffic and continue driving. I've never had fun driving alone. It's tiring and boring. Even when Alex and I are driving together and not talking, it's still more entertaining than the loneliness that accompanies me now. Nothing is ever nothing when I'm with Alex. If my parents ask Alex not to come for Christmas, then I won't come either.

After a long ten hour drive, I pull in on the side of the road in front of my parent's house. My uncle's car is in the driveway next to my mom's car and my grandma's car is behinds me. A few other cars are there but I'm sure those are just my cousins, who most likely are staying in hotels for the nights we are all here. I have to sit in my car for a few minutes to mentally prepare myself for my family. Holidays usually consist of everyone arguing and then a long dinner full of my father's tangents on whatever topic he deems unsuitable for the world this time. I don't want to go in there alone or sober, but unfortunately, I have to. So, I grab my bags and get out of my truck.

The walk to the door is long and seems to stretch miles. I can hear voices inside, and I feel sick. I wish I could have Alex here. I wish I could hold his hand right now and hear his voice telling me that it'll be okay. But he's not here, and I'm alone. So it's time to man up and face my family. I can do this. I can do this.

"John!" I hear my mom's voice say as I walk through the door. The skinny Puerto Rican woman walks up to me and hugs me. I hug her back happily. As much as my family is stressful and whatnot, I always miss my mom. She was always the nicest.

"Hey momma," I say.

"How's my college boy?" She holds me at arm's length to look at me.

I laugh and look down. "I'm good, I'm good."

"Well, you can tell us all about it. Come on Johnny," she says. She pulls me out of the mudroom and into the living room. My family sits on couches, in chairs, on the floor, talking. They all say hello to me and I tell them I'll be down for hugs after I drop off my stuff in my room. Seeing my room is weird because it has been stripped of posters and anything that really made it mine and Alex's. All the things he and I wrote on my walls are still there though. His seemingly endless French poetry, my short and sweet phrases. It's comforting. But it also makes the longing in my heart for my sweet boy grown and ache.

I walk back downstairs and hug everyone. My grandma and cousin and aunt and uncle are all very interested in why my best friend has decided not to accompany me. Most of my family like Alex, as well as my grandma. My great grandma really liked Alex too. So I guess the fact that I've shown up to this holiday alone when I am usually with the sweet immigrant Caribbean is odd to them.

"Well, some people decided it would be best if he kept his distance," I say flatly, my eyes flitting to my parents for almost a millisecond.

"You told that sweet boy to keep his distance?" My grandma snaps at my dad.

"Well, we were hoping John would instead bring a girl," My dad, who has barely acknowledged me, points out.

"Boy oh boy," I mumble sarcastically.

"Don't you dare push John to get a girlfriend," my aunt Bianca scolds. "John is allowed to be single, and more importantly, he's allowed to date people other than girls."

"Oh whatever Bianca, enough of your liberal crap. I believe dinner's almost ready?" My dad looks at my mom.

"Yes, it is, so let's all make our way to the dining room," my mother replies, looking over at us. I sigh deeply and stand up. But I'm quickly pulled aside by my nosey but enjoyable cousin Aurora. She's a young girl, about fifteen, with bright purple hair and an enthralling personality that can occasionally make these things bearable.

"Hey, what's on your neck?" She asks.

"My, my what?" I stutter, my face turning bright red. The hickeys. The small and oh so treasured love bites Alexander had left on my neck the night before.

"Oh my god, you'd struggle to pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel," she groans. "Is it Alex?"

"Aurora, all the cocaine in the world and your nose is still in my fucking business. I believe it's dinner?" I say, annoyed almost.

"Whatever, you're no fucking fun." Aurora walks away and I follow her into the dining room. My mom has made spaghetti and meatballs, and a day of driving has made me famished, so I'm more than happy to sit down and serve myself up a nice plate, accompanied with garlic bread and Caesar salad. Being someone who does try to prioritize exercise, I have a very large appetite. Before I go to bed I try to make sure I've eaten enough, because the last thing I want to do is lose muscle mass. I like my body. Usually though, since it's not hard for me to eat enough, it's Alex I have to check on. The boy is usually pretty good about eating but sometimes he can work too much and forget. I hope he's eating enough while I'm gone. I'll have to ask him.

"John, what are you taking? In college, what are you studying? I asked your mom but she said she wasn't too sure," aunt Bianca asks.

"I'm studying to be a marine biologist, but I'm also taking an art class and a human rights class. Alex is studying law and wants to be a lawyer, which is really cool," I say, filling in any question about Alex's major. I know they would've asked.

"Are you boys behaving?" My grandma teases.

"Yes, we are. Only a few parties, good grades," I laugh.

"You're making sure Alex is taking breaks right? The boy would work himself to death if we let him," my uncle Mickey points out, his mouth full of garlic bread.

I nod. "Yes, yes, Alex is being taken care of. I'm making sure he socializes and sleeps and understands that a red bull does not count as dinner."

My dad clears his throat. "Have you met anyone?"

I nod, smiling. "Yeah, I have these neighbors in our dorm building named Lafayette and his boyfriend Hercules, and they're really cool. Laf is French so he and Alex talk a lot. And then this girl Naomi and her girlfriend in my oceanography class. Also, A guy named James Madison and his boyfriend Thomas Jefferson. And then Aaron and his girlfriend Theodosia, and the Schuyler sisters. I've met a lot of people."

"Any girlfriends?" My dad pushes.

I roll my eyes into the back of my skull. "I'm dating my classes right now. I don't have time for a relationship."

"Leave the boy alone Henry, your father and I didn't meet until I was twenty-five. John can take as long as he wants," my grandma snaps, holding up her butter knife.

The rest of dinner goes by pretty easily, and so does sitting in the living room and telling stories. I wish Alex was here. He always loves it when my grandma tells stories. He always says that it gives him ideas on what to write, because, despite how much he enjoys writing protest essays, laws, opinions, his guilty pleasure is writing those short cheesy romance novels like the kind you would find in your mom's childhood bedroom. I always tease him for it a bit but truthfully they're really good. He'll post them chapter by chapter online and I'll read them. Sometimes it'll end up with me storming over to him and dramatically say something like 'how could you let her fall in love with Gregory? Julio is obviously the better fit for her!' And Alex will groan and tell me that I should stop reading such silly stories.

Finally, my family all bid adieu to go to sleep. I kiss my momma goodnight and nod to my dad before making my way up to my room. I slip on my pajama pants and a tee shirt and pull out my laptop. Alex should just be studying by now since classes have been over for a while and it's very very unlikely that he has planned something with anyone. So, I feel pretty confident as I press the call button on Facetime that he'll pick up. The first ring goes by and I make sure I look good. About halfway through the second ring, he answers.

"Hey, my little lion man!" I say, the camera showing me his face. He, as always, looks tired and messy, but adorable as ever.

"Hello galaxy boy, how's hell?" He asks, smiling as he pushes a pencil behind his ear.

I chuckle. "Not as hot without you."

"Oh I know," Alex smirks. "How's the family?"

I shrug. "Same as usual. They miss you. My grandma was sad you weren't here."

Alex gives me a tight-lipped look. "Well, I wanted to go!"

I roll my eyes. "Blame my dad. He's most likely the one who made that call."

"Your dad doesn't like me. I don't know why. I am so likable. Like I am actually the most likable person out there," Alex starts.

"He just thinks you're turning me gay," I laugh.

Alex shrugs. "I mean, I kinda am."

"What does that mean?" I chuckle and put my hair up.

"Well, the thing is I'm always the one initiating stuff. Like Halloween, or last night. And you did say that you didn't like many boys, you just liked one boy and that boy was me, so I mean, your dad isn't wrong, I just wouldn't say he's totally right," Alex explains.

I laugh and eye the dark hickeys on Alex's neck. "You know, he is right. It's entirely your fault that I'm gay. You and your ass and your face and your smile and your fuckin' personality."

Alex shrugs nonchalantly and smiles. "I'm like heroin. You try me once and you can't get enough. Face it, John, you're an addict, and you can't wait for your next fix."

I hold up my hands. "Well, you got me there."

Alex and I talk until I fall asleep, discussing his plans for tomorrow, my plans for tomorrow, the drive, school, our friends, all that stuff. It's nice to talk to him. I love having Alex to console me at the end of the day. I love the way he talks, I love the way he'll fiddle with his sleeve when he's thinking really hard, or when he'll bite his lip when he loses his place. I love the way he'll move his hands around and gesture wildly when he talks about what he's passionate about, or the way he'll sort of shrink down a bit when he's unsure. Alex is just a puzzle and I love putting the pieces together.

I fall asleep to Alex's voice. He's reading to me a book called A World In Disarray about foreign policy or something. It's nice to fall asleep to Alex's voice though. I always get really nice dreams when Alex talks me to sleep. The dreams are always about him. It's nice because it's never like, a wet teenage dream about passionate sex or anything, it's usually just him and I talking or something. Sometimes though, I get dreams that are just plain weird. Nothing scary or anything, just really fucking weird.

I wake up to my mom pounding on my door and telling me to get up and help with breakfast. I had set an alarm for ten, which is when I usually got up on weekends when I still lived at home, but for some god awful reason, my mom decided that eight thirty would be okay for me. So, groaning, I roll out of bed and onto my floor. The pain of hitting the hard surface is enough to wake me up. I push myself into sitting position and look around. Sometimes I just need to stare off for a bit in the morning just so I can rest for a bit while I'm waking up.

"John you better not be asleep!" I hear my mom's voice scold.

"Don't worry, momma! I'm up!" I groan, my voice cracking a bit. I stand up and open my duffle bag to find some clothes. I pull out an old tee shirt that Alex favored as a nightshirt often times and hold it to my nose. It still smells like him, so I will be wearing it to get me through Thanksgiving. After I slip it on I get out a new pair of boxers and socks. Only, I notice something neatly placed between my turtle Star Wars socks and my blue and green communist socks. A piece of paper. I pick it up and open it, then begin reading.

'This carries with an air of preference, which, though I can truly say I love your character and admire your lively pursuits of joy, cannot fail to give me some new and unrecognized sensations. But in this, my dearest, John, I wish you understand me well. The blame, if there is any, falls wholly upon anyone but you as the reasoning of why I am not accompanying you. I repeat, your conduct has been perfectly right, and even laudable. You rejected the offer when you ought to have rejected it; you accepted it when you ought to have accepted it; let me ask with a degree of overscrupulous delicacy. It was necessary to your life, and your life is good; I should have done the same. In hesitating, you refind upon the refinements of generosity. Forever yours, A. Ham.'

"My dearest, Alexander," I mumble, bringing the letter to my lips.

"Johnathan Laurens! Five minutes and I want you out here! Breakfast is almost ready!" My mom's voice breaks me out of my trance.

"My dearest, Alexander," I whisper again, slipping on a pair of socks and some boxers. I'm quick to pull on some black joggers and burst out of my room before I have to face the wrath of my mother again. Alex's note rings through my head as I walk downstairs and help set the table. Forever yours, A. Ham. My heart seems to pound against my chest as I reread that sentence in my mind. My sweet Alexander, how you have caused me to fall utterly and impossibly head over heels for you.

"What's got you blushing?" Aurora whispers.

"A light-skinned, Caribbean immigrant, long hair, mature, and a body like whoa," I mumble, thinking about Alex's song.

"Wait, a what?" She asks, confused obviously.

"Nothing," I laugh, sitting down next to her.

"A light-skinned Caribbean immigrant..." she trails off. Then she smacks her hand on the table loudly, her eyes lighting up.

"Aurora! What on earth?" Aunt Bianca says, coming in with a large plate of bacon, followed by my mom and uncle, carrying pancakes and eggs.

"Sorry momma," Aurora says, smiling and looking down a bit. She side eyes me. "I fucking knew it."

"Language," I scold as everyone sits down.

Breakfast goes by quickly and soon after I'm given a list and sent to a grocery store. It's kinda long and I'm surprised we didn't get all this stuff before the day of Thanksgiving. Luckily though, it's a lot of Puerto Rican food. My family does celebrate Thanksgiving regardless of our real heritage, but we like to make our own food. And it's nice because while two women get into a fist fight over the last yam, I'm peacefully strolling down the Mexican aisle, collecting rice and mix and hot sauce, and then making sure I grab plantains, sweetened condensed milk, regular milk, and onions. The checker is very confused but doesn't ask.

I come home to yelling.

"Cállate perra loca! Es medio palo no tres cuartas partes!" Aunt Bianca yells at most likely my mom. Another flurry of Spanish comes back and I set the groceries on the table while Aurora watches the kitchen with a bag of chips.

"What are they making?" I ask, taking things out and putting all the plastic bags together.

"Abuela's apple bake," she tells me.

"It's half a stick!" I yell in.

"Aye, John, I'm your mother, you're supposed to take my side," my mom laughs, the fighting instantly stopping and both of them coming over to get the foods they need to cook with. I follow them into the kitchen and instantly begin cooking like I usually do at Thanksgiving. I remember Alex would watch me cook for hours. He loved Thanksgiving for this reason only, he got to watch me cook. I miss not having him here. And even though that thought has run through my head a hundred times in the past twenty-four hours, it still means just as much saying it now.

Dinner is finally done and we all sit down. My fingers are stained with the hours of cooking I just did, but it doesn't matter. I know after dinner I'll Facetime Alex, tell him how it went, ask him how Washington's was, and talk to him. I can't wait to talk to him. But for now, I'm going to talk to my family, because as stressful as they can be, I do miss them. So I join in the conversation, and for a while, it's good, but then it's turned to politics, as always.

"Well, actually, I'm voting for a Democrat," I state quietly.

"Why on earth, those people are idiots," my dad states.

I sigh. "Well, actually, you see, Andrew Cuomo is a man who has been in government for a while and really acknowledges both woman's struggles as well as the LGBT communities struggles, and also is very diligent to work against poverty, and stop discrimination of people of colour, so I don't know, I just think he's a person who keeps the people's needs in mind and he is fighting for a lot of rights that would not only affect me, but my friends too. There are many problems that maybe Republicans can solve, but we need to fix the millions of human rights abuses first or nothing will get done."

"Again with that gay bullshit," my dad mutters.

"Fucking excuse me?" I snap, dropping my fork onto my plate.

"John, language," my mom says quietly.

"Listen to the kid, he talks big about human rights abuses and whatever but he has no idea what he's saying, he takes his research from other people's mouths," my dad says, pointing to me.

"For your information, not only am I taking a class on human rights abuses, but I know plenty about government so I know exactly what I'm saying. Where are your college credits, hm?" I know I may have crossed a bit of a line but I'm not in the mood to care.

"Oh whatever John," my dad scoffs. "This is just about your fag friend Alex, isn't it?"

"What the fuck did you just call him?" My voice is getting louder, but everyone else has shut up. It's not rare when my dad and I fight, but this one is bigger than usual.

"Oh whatever, you know it's true," my dad snaps.

"Don't fucking talk about him like that," I growl.

"Yeah, you're crossing a line," my grandma sticks out.

"Alex has stopped you from doing lot's of things I just don't see why you and he are still friends!" My dad says, throwing his arms up.

"Like what dad? What has he stopped me from? Getting a wife? Yeah, that's it. Because that boy is the only reason I kept my grades up and got into Columbia, he's the only reason I didn't drop out, he's the only reason I don't live here anymore. He didn't stop me from anything." I stand up abruptly, ready to go upstairs for the night.

"You and him are just too close! It's weird! You can't live in some fantasy world, Jack," My dad spits.

I turn around from my trek to the stairs and in one hot fiery moment, I spit out the last words I thought were going to leave my mouth this Thanksgiving. "I'm gay!"

Silence. I'm only greeted with silence.

"I am fucking gay, dad. And guess what?" I pull down my shirt a bit so Alex's love bites are in the open. "College has been fucking great. So I'm gonna drive back tonight. Momma, Bianca, Mikey, Aurora, grandma, I love you all, but I have to leave. I'm sorry."

The walk upstairs is quick and soon enough I'm stuffing what little I pulled out back into my duffle bag. I can hear voices downstairs. My dad's is loud but my uncle's voice is countering him, almost matching his volume. I can't be here right now, I just, I can't. So, as I quickly remember Alex's letter and my phone charger before I leave, I feel nothing but relief that my remaining time here is limited to mere minutes.

"It's bullshit! You know he's just being a stupid college kid!" I hear my dad say as I walk downstairs.

"Fuck you," I spit, walking past the table to the door. My mom gets up and follows me as my uncle and father continue to argue.

"John," she says quietly.

"Yes, momma?" Everything in me softens as I stand by the door, facing her.

"I love you, sweetheart, maybe we'll see you for Christmas? You and Alex?" She says, placing her hands on my shoulders.

I smile and pull her into a hug. "Of course. I love you."

"I love you too, John. Please be safe. Tell Alex I said hello. Call me when you feel like it," she continues.

"I'm sorry for ruining Thanksgiving," I sigh.

She shrugs. "At least I know my son isn't hiding a part of who he is. I'm sorry your father reacted like that, and I'm sorry if I've ever been ignorant. You're still my son, and I love you no matter what."

"I love you too. I'll call you soon," I state, turning to place my hand on the doorknob.

"Okay John, have a safe trip," she pleads lightly.

I nod. "I will."

I walk across the yard to my truck. When I get in, I have to sit back and calm down. Sometimes I get really mad, like, really mad. It takes me a bit to calm down, and it scares me sometimes. I try and succeed at keeping it under control usually, but sometimes there will just be something that pisses me off to such an extent that it takes a little while to calm down. Alex can always tell when I feel like this and usually helps.

I start up the car and start driving. It's almost seven so I'm not gonna get there until about five am, when Alex should wake up. I know I'll probably crash the moment I walk through the door, but in all honesty, I care very little. I'm just really tired and I miss Alex a lot. So, as hours go by, with nothing to accompany me but the in and out radio, four monster energy drinks, and myself, my brain keeps the thought of Alex up front. It'll be nice to go home to him. It always is. For some reason, he always makes me feel better when something is up. Whether I'm stressed, or sad, he's always there.

Driving down the street of New York at five am is something that is not easily forgotten. There are just enough cars to cause traffic, but not enough to make the traffic just. So, I find my achingly slow pace back to college a bother and an annoyance. I had gotten a Facetime request from Alex earlier that night, but I just told him I was busy, not feeling like explaining what happened over text or call while I'm driving. So I persevere alone through the roads until I made it back to New York. Then I weaved through a mess of cars so I could finally make it back to where my sweet Alex is.

I park my car and start the short walk to the freshman dorm, my backpack and duffle bag in hand. It's nice to be back on campus, even if I'm exhausted and tired and probably need to shower. Right now though, I just want to lie down next to Alex and hold him and sleep for the next seven to nine hours. So, I quicken my pace and finally make my way to my room. Due to my fatigue though, getting my key in the lock takes a second, but finally, I get it in. When it gives me the approving click, saying it's unlocked, I open the door. Inside, I see Alex, sitting upright and stiff on his bed, his hand gripping the lamp with white knuckles. A look of confusion crosses his face.

"John?"


	14. He was sad so I got him hard and made him smile

/John/

I break down. I don't know why but the moment he says my name I can't stop crying. I drop my bags and bow my head, placing my hands over my face. It takes a mere couple of seconds for Alex's arms to be around me. We both drop to our knees and I lean against Alex, sobbing. He holds me close to him, brushing his fingers through my hair and whispering small things to me. He doesn't ask questions, he just whispers small reassuring things to me. Finally, though, I calm down.

Alex takes my face in his hands and wipes away the tears. "What happened?"

I chuckle bitterly. "I came out to my dad."

Alex raises his eyebrows. "How?"

"Okay, well, this is kind of a bit of a story so I'm gonna get changed and we can lie down, yeah?" I give him hopeful eyes.

He nods. "Yeah of course."

We both get up and while Alex goes and sits down on my bed, the bed that looks the most used in the past couple of days, I change out of my driving clothes and into a large hoodie and some sweatpants. I crawl in next to Alex and lie down, placing my head on his lap. He begins fiddling with my hair again and for a second, I just stare up at his beautiful chocolate eyes and his gorgeously smooth honey skin.

"So, you came out to your dad," Alex says, breaking the silence.

I groan. "Okay, well it started when we were just discussing politics and I was talking about who I was voting for, and then he accused me of not knowing what I was talking about, and then he brought you into it and then a few biting words later he called me Jack."

Alex creases his eyebrows. "That's fucked up."

I don't like being called Jack. My grandpa used to call me Jack because he had Alzheimer's and thought my name was Jack. He was a very important person in my life but I died when I was in fifth grade. No one ever calls me Jack anymore, that was reserved just for my grandpa. Until, of course, my father decided to toss me off guard with it.

"Yeah. Anyway, after that I just said it. And then I left," I finish, featuring with my hands a little bit. "I just said goodbye and left."

"Did you tell them about, like, whatever we are?" Alex asks.

I shrug. "No. I did show them the hickey's you left though."

"Pretty," Alex says, pulling my hoodie down a bit so he can see them.

"Alex, would you like, want to be my boyfriend? If I asked of course, which I'm not doing right now," I stated nervously.

Alex smiles and brushes his fingers along my lips. "Well, John Laurens, if you asked to be my boyfriend, I believe I would say yes. But of course, this is all hypothetical."

I nod, smiling. "Hypothetical, definitely."

Alex leans down and kisses my nose. "Go to sleep John, you're tired. I'll wake you up around noon, yeah?"

I nod and move so my head is resting on a pillow, knowing Alex would get stir crazy if he had to sit there for hours while I slept. "Yeah, okay. I'll talk to you soon."

"Goodnight sweetheart," Alex whispers, kissing my forehead.

"Goodnight baby girl," I mumble, closing my eyes.

I slept hard, but wake up easily to the sound of Alex's voice. I open my eyes a crack but quickly shut them again when I am blinded by the sun. I blindly reach up for Alex until I find him, then pull him down and against my body. He laughs but hugs me, letting hold him gently for the time being. It's nice to have him back in my arms. I missed the way his body felt against mine.

"John," Alex whines, sighing heavily.

"Yes?" I reply, keeping my eyes shut.

"We have to get up," he counters, pointing out the one thing I wish to ignore.

I groan. "But I like this so much."

Alex pushes me on my back and rolls on top of me, straddling my hips. "What do I have to do to get my sweet Johnny boy out of bed?"

My eyes shoot open and I look at Alex. "What would you like to do?"

Alex leans down and plants a long kiss on my jaw. "Whatever you want to."

I laugh and place my hand on his cheek, bringing his face to look at me. "Such a pretty boy. So, so pretty."

Alex blushes, biting his lip. "I want, I want to do something."

My thumb runs across his cheekbone, moving my face closer. "Oh yeah?"

Alex nods. "Yeah." His lips almost brush mine as he speaks.

My hand trails to the back of his head. "Then do it."

So he does.

The feeling is soft, barely anything at first. Just the light feeling of skin against skin. Then I pull his face a bit closer, deepening the kiss. His lips are soft and sweet. Neither of us has ever kissed anyone, so it is a bit awkward, and we do have to break away a few times just so we can figure out how to kiss again. But it's nice. I can feel him smiling, I can feel his chest moving up and down, I can feel the heat off of his skin.

"John," his whispers between the kiss.

"Yes, lovely?" I reply, my lips brushing his.

"Why, why is this the first time we've ever done this?" He asks, his hands trailing lightly down my chest.

"I honestly don't know," I answer him. We pull away and I look at his face. His cheeks are bright red, his eyes are wide, and his lips are a tad bit swollen. He looks ravishing.

"Laurens, I like you a lot," he whispers.

"Hamilton, I like you too," I murmur back lightly.

"Are you gonna get out of bed now? Come on, I wanna go and get lunch with a few friends," Alex jokes, smiling.

"Wait, hold on, are you fucking with me?" I give him a confused look.

"Depends, what do you think I am saying that is bullshit?" Alex asks, tapping his fingers lightly against my chest.

I shrug a bit. "Well, no offense babe, but the fact that you want to go out with friends."

Alex chuckles. "Yeah, I was fucking with you. I just wanted to get you to come with me to get some food."

I laugh and stand up, going to my closet. I have yet to unpack but I have enough clothes in my closet. So, I slip on a pair of blue jeans and a red flannel. Alex has gotten on some blue jeans and a large grey sweater. I pull up my hair into a messy bun while Alex leaves his in a loose ponytail. He looks over at me and I don't even stop myself from pulling him into my arms and kissing him. He lets out a moan of surprise but quickly joins in with the kiss, standing on his tiptoes and placing his hands behind my neck. I back him into the door and keep my hands on his hips, holding him right there.

"You're perfect," he whispers, smiling.

"I know," I reply. We place our fingers together and exit our dorm, heading towards our favorites Chinese place. Living in New York for four months has taught us that they make the best shitty Chinese food and the worst Mexican food. So, automatically, we fell in love with a crappy Chinese place called Hunan Chen's Kitchen. It's small but makes the best food. At this point, they know us by name, which would be almost embarrassing if we weren't poor college students.

"Ah! John! Alex! It had been a few days, we thought you were dead!" The owner, Hunan, says, smiling. "The usual?"

I smile and nod, pulling out my wallet. "You know us too well."

"John, babe, let me pay," Alex whines.

I shake my head. "Never. No receipt Hunan, thank you."

I make sure to add a tip and then find a seat with Alex. We will only wait here until Hunan calls out our names with our orders in white styrofoam boxes. Then, we take them, as well as some chopsticks, and walk down the New York City streets until we make it to central park. It's weird to see where the city just stops, and then nature and picks up. Like a bowl made of buildings almost, if that makes sense.

Alex and I find a spot on a bench and begin to eat our Chinese food. Due to the fact that I hadn't eaten in over ten hours, I was ravenous. The greasy spoon Chinese food tasted like heaven to me, and I had never been more grateful for something in my life.

"Hungry?" Alex asks, laughing at me.

I nod. "Fuck yeah. I'm starving Alex."

He chuckles and takes another bite of his noodles.

"How was your Thanksgiving?" I ask, my mouth full of kung pao chicken.

Alex shrugs. "I got drunk with Washington, Jefferson, and Burr. I found out Washington once almost got arrested, and yeah, it was okay."

I laugh. "Wow, next time I'm spending Thanksgiving with you. That sounds awesome."

Alex gives me a small smile. "I missed you."

I sigh and lean in, planting a kiss on his cheek. "I missed you too."

He chuckles. "Washington is low key becoming my dad."

"Well he's already become Laf's dad, so you and Laf can be brothers and then I can have a cool father-in-law," I point out.

"So, it's only Friday, what do you want to do this weekend?" Alex asks me, pointing his chopsticks at me.

I shrug. "Well, I'm feeling lazy, so maybe we can, like, stay in? Just watch Netflix and eat all that food I bought you?"

Alex pumps his fist in the air. "Yes! Introverts perfect getaway! Let's watch an entire series! Let's only talk to each other!"

"Oh!" I say, remembering something. "The letter!"

Alex cocks his head.

"You wrote me a letter and put it between my socks," I explain.

His eyes light up. "Did you like it?"

I nod. "Yes, yes it was very nice. It made me smile."

Alex's face turns red but his mouth turns up into a very happy grin. "I'm glad. I know it was kinda rushed and sloppy, but I think it got to the point, yeah?"

I lean in and kiss him, catching him off guard. "It was beautiful, my dearest, Alexander."

"You know, John, I think we get along quite well."

I nod to Alex's statement. "We do."

One short walk back to the dorm and we're laying next to each other and watching a comedy show on Netflix. Alex is laughing happily, hugging me close to his body. We've stripped ourselves of any unneeded clothing, such as sweaters and jeans, and hold each other closely, both of us just adorning our simple undergarments. It feels nice to have him so close to me. My head resting on his shoulder, my fingers tracing shapes along his chest and stomach. I love the way Alex looks. His body is not, well, I guess the best way to describe it by saying that it is not a fan fiction body. He does not have the defined abs, nor a bony and thin body. It's normal. His lower stomach has a small pouch of fat, his chest has a bit of hair, his legs are a bit thicker, his arms are slim, but he's my Alex. And he's beautiful like this.

"Stop playing with my tummy fat," Alex laughs.

I hadn't realized I had been subconsciously tapping my fingers against it. "Why?"

"Because it is another reminder that I am..." He pauses for dramatic effect. "Fat."

I reach up and pause the show. "Baby, you are not fat."

He looks at me. "You know what you're tapping your fingers against right now? That's called a fat stomach."

I push the laptop off of him and scooch down so my head was level with his stomach. "Well, I call it cute." Then I plant a light kiss there.

"John," Alex whines, his fingers falling in my hair.

"Yes, gorgeous?" I reply, still kissing his stomach.

"You're being silly."

I look up at him and smile. "Oh? Am I?"

"Oh, John, don't you-"

He's cut off by me tickling him. Instantly his squeals and snorts fill the room. He's so cute when he laughs because his face turns blood red and his eyes crinkle up and his snorts. Alex snorts. It's so cute. He's just so freakin cute.

"John! Stop I can't breathe!" Alex squeals between laughs.

I surrender with the tickling and lean up, kissing Alex's neck.

"John if you're gonna kiss my neck then you better commit to it," Alex says breathlessly, his fingers going in my hair.

"Mm, baby, I know," I mumble against his skin, reaching up to pull his hair out of the ponytail. He lets out a small breathy moan as I begin to nip at his skin gently. His hands slide down to my back and his nails dig into my skin as I start to grind my hips gently against his.

"John, oh god, Johnny," his voice is thick and rough, and he's obviously caught off guard a bit, almost lost for words.

"Fuck, Lex, god," I groan as one of his hands trail down my back to give my ass a squeeze. His other hand runs up and down my back, scratching me lightly as I bite him.

"John, please, kiss me," Alex begs between pants.

I don't hesitate to lean up and kiss him, tugging his hair a bit as I do. He groans lightly, grinding his hips against me. I don't expect the sudden friction and I moan against Alex's mouth. He must like that a lot because he does it again. I tug his hair a bit, groaning.

"John, oh fuck," Alex mumbles, his nails running down my back. I like the way that feels.

"Alex, you're so fucking beautiful," I growl, moving my hips and causing both of us to moan. Both of us, due to the fact that our only sexual experience has been with our hands, are really sensitive, so I'm not ashamed to say that I was starting to get kinda close to coming.

"John, John shit don't stop," Alex begs, his nails digging into me.

I begin to move my hips against his at a more steady beat. His moans, light and airy, fill up the room, as well as my occasional curse. It feels nice to be like this with Alex. It feels like we're both just, together. I can feel Alex's chest against mine, the light sweat that has broken out between us. I can feel his heavy breathing on my skin, his nails on my back, his legs against mine. I just want to hold him like this forever.

"John, oh god," Alex moans suddenly, his back arching and his hips suddenly grinding hard against mine. I feel my stomach release and my boxers dampen. I ride out my hide, as well as Alex until we both just end up laying there, our foreheads pressed together, both of us breathing hard.

"Wow," I manage to whisper.

"Laurens, I like you a lot," Alex chuckles, his lips brushing against mine.

I smile and gently kiss him. "I like you too."

"We're not gonna get anything done this weekend, are we?" He mumbles, his fingers trailing gently down my back.

I roll off of him and shake my head. "Honestly, I really don't think we are."

Alex smiles. "Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to change my boxers."

I sit up with him. "And you think I don't?"


	15. The streets are fucking numbered, stop being such a goddamn tourist, Alex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour, y'all. Two things. 
> 
> 1\. I'm being geologically correct in this story. I'm a New Yorker so I literally know what they're talking about. I've been to these places. The picture above is the corner John and Alex are on
> 
> 2\. Whoever the fuck gets lost in New York is an idiot. The streets are fucking numbered. You're on 16th and 24th and you need to get to 9th and 14th? Go down seven and over ten. Like, how hard is simple addition and subtraction? Fuckin tourists.

/Alex/

"How the fuck do you get lost in New York?"

I have to pull my phone away from my ear. Herc is loud.

"The streets are fucking numbered! Numbered Alex! It's as simple as it sounds!" Herc keeps ranting, not realizing that it's not helping John and I get unlost.

"Herc! Give me the phone!" I hear a French accent say. Then, a few seconds later, "salut Alex, comment ca va?"

"Je vais bien, et toi?" I reply, relaxing as the words flow over my lips.

"Bien. Now, where are you?" Laf asks.

"We're at the corner of 104th street and Columbus Avenue," I say, looking at a few street signs. John and I decided going on a Saturday afternoon walk would be a nice way to relax and maybe do something besides watching Netflix or grind on each other and make out. But, because New York has only been home to us since August, we managed to get lost. We figured that pulling out google maps and walking around with our eyes glued to our phones would either get us on the cover of an angry baby boomers article or get us mugged, so, mistakenly, we called Herc.

"Oh, Lexi, I thought you said you were lost." Laf chuckles at me. "Walk over to Amsterdam Avenue and then up to 116th street and you literally cannot miss it. Remember baby, the streets are numbered, it is really impossible for you to get lost. We'll see you two tomorrow. Kiss kiss."

"Kiss kiss, Laf," I say, hanging up.

"You and Laf are weird," John comments.

I nod. "We are. Okay, so basically we just have to walk over to Amsterdam Avenue, and then up to 116th street, so we apparently weren't lost enough to cause a panic."

John chuckles and grips my hand. "I guess not."

A gust of cold air brushes over us and I shiver. I have never once seen snow, l have never once been in weather this cold. I mean, twenty degrees? What the fuck? Who actually can survive in this? South Carolina got down to thirty degrees at its coldest, and it only hailed, but never snowed. New York has taken my Carribean ass off guard.

"You know Alex, I told you that it was going to be cold. You could've worn a thicker jacket," John says as I cuddle closer to him while we walk.

"I don't own a thicker jacket, John! I rarely even go outside!" I exclaim.

John smiles and sighs, then before I know it, his Jacket is wrapped around me, leaving him in just a hoodie and a hat.

"John! What about you?" I ask.

John shrugs and slips his hands in his hoodie pockets. "It's a short walk."

"Well now I feel bad," I say.

John leans over and kisses my cheek. "As long as I got you, I'll be good. But let's walk a little faster."

I groan. "Ugh, promise if you get too cold you'll pull us into a shop or something so you can warm up?"

John smiles. "Pinky promise."

Luckily, we get back to our dorm without freezing. I'm still cold though since I am not accustomed to weather like this, due to the fact that even in South Carolina winters I spent most of my time inside. So I'm quick to tell John I'm going to draw a bath and warm up. John nods, smiling, and I go into the bathroom. I start by rinsing myself off quickly in the shower so I'm not soaking in my own filth in the tub, then I start to fill it up. I put bubbles in it and walk out to grab my book. John is on his bed, his sketchbook out.

"Whatcha drawing?" I ask.

He turns his book so I can see the bird he's sketching. "Nothing much."

"Mkay. Well, I'm gonna take my bath. If you get lonely come sit with me," I offer.

He looks up at me, a large smirk on his face.

"Hold your horses, Casanova, I just meant if you wanted to sit on the edge of the tub or something and read with me," I laugh.

"You tease!" John calls out as I enter the bathroom.

"You wouldn't like me any other way," I point out, leaving the door open.

I strip down into nothing, then hesitantly submerge myself into the hot water. It goes up to about the middle of my chest, coating my body in warmth. I sigh happily and open up my book. Bath's have always been relaxing for me. I used to take them in Nevis because it was the only way to get clean. Bath's remind me of the times when I would sit there and listen to my mom sing while she washed my hair. Those are some of my more treasured memories.

About fifteen minutes go by, and then John walks in. "Hey, gorgeous."

"Oh boy, what do you want?" I ask.

John holds up his sketchbook. "Nothing but for you to do what you're best at."

I raise an eyebrow. "That is?"

John leans down and kisses my forehead, then puts the lid of the toilet down and sits on it. "Sit there and read, baby girl."

"Don't call me baby girl," I say, a small smile cracking on my lips.

John gives me a look as he ties his hair up. "Just sit still and look pretty. We can recreate The Titanic."

I smile but do as he asks, trying to hold my position of reading my book, with the occasional page turn. My book is very engrossing. It's about how the financial system in America was basically rebuilt in the beginning to work out a way to create an easy way to get out of debt and indulge in good credit. I've always enjoyed the financial aspect of government. I love working with numbers. If I do ever get into politics, I would want to run for treasury secretary. In my conversation with Washington about this, he agrees that I would be good, but then he also talked about a possible job for me in the future. He didn't give out many details but he says he's only told a few students about it, and I would definitely be one of his top picks.

"Alex?" John mumbles, still looking intensely as his sketchbook.

"Yes, my dearest, Johnathan?" I say.

"You are so very beautiful," he tells me, holding up his sketchbook, looking at me, then the drawing, then pulling it closer so he can continue.

I smile, turning the page on my book. "As are you, my love."

We sit in a calming quiet for a bit longer, then John sighs. "Done."

"Baby, lemme see," I say, leaning up from my bath.

He looks at me. "Just remember, I don't draw people very often so I'm not that good."

"John, you will always be your worst critic. Now, let me see," I request.

He blushes as he turns the sketchbook around and shows it to me.

He captured everything. The background itself isn't too detailed, just as much as he needed to put there. The bubbles and the water are more difficulty captured, which makes me assume he's never really drawn stuff like that. But he captured me perfectly. My eyes, my composer, the small bit of hair on my chest, the blush in my cheeks. It's beautiful.

"I love it," I whisper.

"You do?" John asks.

I look at him and smile. "Yes, baby, I really do."

John stands up and leans down, planting a kiss on my lips. "I'm glad. I'll leave you alone now. I just wanted to draw you."

I smile and hum. "I'll be out in a few. Do you want to go see a movie later? There's this really good one that's showing and I think it might interest you."

John perks up. "What's it called?"

"Blindspotting. It has a lot to do with police shooting African Americans and I know that's kinda your thing. Also, the soundtrack is really good," I explain.

John nods and smiles. "That sounds awesome. Should we invite someone?"

I shrug. "I know Madison is back, maybe we could invite him and Jefferson?"

"Sounds good, Hamilton. I'll text them." He smiles at me and then walks out of the bathroom, leaving me in peace. I look back at my book and continue reading until the water gets cold. Then, I drain it and grab a towel. My body feels heavy as it always does after a bath. It's really relaxing, the feeling, so I end up drying off and slipping on a pair of boxers, then collapsing next to John. He places his hand gently in my damp hair and continues watching the Youtube video that's playing about transgender issues.

"Did you text Jefferdick?" I mumble, running my fingers over his chest.

John nods and smiles. "Yes, I did. He said it sounded like a fun idea. We leave in about an hour and a half okay? We're gonna get dinner first."

"I never fuckin thought I'd go on a double date with that shit face," I mumble.

"You're the one who suggested it," John points out.

I nod and plant a kiss on his shoulder. "Yes. Only because my boy Madison knocked some sense into him."

"Who do you think tops?" John asks.

"With us or them?" I adjust myself so my head is comfortably resting on John's shoulder.

He shrugs. "Both I guess."

Laughing, I reply. "Well, with Jefferfuck and Madison, Jefferson tops. No doubt. Have you seen Madison? The boy is a twink, all the way. He's like, five foot four and a dainty ass mother fucker. While Thomas is six foot two and radiates with big dick energy."

"Please, please, never say that again," John requests, groaning.

"What? He does! Madison does not!" I defend.

"Okay, what about us?" John asks, smirking at me.

"Well if it's not you then we're gonna have a few problems," I clarify.

"Alexander Hamilton is a bottom? Shocker." He chuckles and rests his head against mine. Some of his hair falls in my face but I ignore it.

"Fuck yeah I am. Well, I mean, I'm sort of a switch because, you know, I would fuck a chick. But, I prefer to bottom," I explain.

"Lucky you, I could never, have never, and will never bottom for anyone ever," John snarks. "Now tell me, Alexander Hamiltwink, do I radiate with big dick energy?"

Deciding to be a smart ass, I reach down and cup the front of his boxers with my hand. Whoa, okay. That's a bit thicker than I expected. "Yes, John, you do."

John, who looks unfazed by my actions, just smirks. "Damn right I do. I am the fucking definition of big dick energy."

I lean up and plant a kiss on his chin. "You're perfect."

An hour and a half goes by and soon enough John and I are walking out our door to meet Thomas and James. John, of course, is looking radiant. He's slipped on some khaki joggers and a white tee shirt with the phrase 'homosexual tendencies' on it, as well as a denim jacket lined with wool. His hair is pulled back into a bun, leaving his eyes and face very open to the world. He's so pretty. I, on the other hand, have only slipped on a green hoodie and some blue jeans. My hair is up in a ponytail, leaving me looking the way I usually do. Plain and awkward.

"What's up Hamilfuck! Hey John!" I hear the annoyingly pleasing sound of Jefferson's voice. He's in the driver's seat of his car, waving to us.

"Get in losers, we're going shopping!" I hear James call out. Then a coughing fit which sends concern flooding through Thomas' very demeanor.

"You good Maddy?" I ask, climbing into the back seat.

"Y'all, I have asthma, and like, the worst immune system. I cough all the time. Ninety-nine percent of the time I am perfectly fine," James explains.

"Okay, so, gimme the scoop," Jefferson says as he starts driving.

"What scoop?" John asks.

"Y'all, are y'all fucking? Because Alex walked into class looking like an octopus tried to strangle him, so I wanna know the tea," Jefferson explains.

"Well," John starts. "Hypothetically, if I were to ask Alex to be my boyfriend, he would say yes."

"Hypothetically," I clarify again.

"So, you guys are..." Madison trails off.

"Not together," I finish. "But, John has definitely taken advantage of my sensibility and stolen my affections. But, since we are generally indulgent to those we care deeply for, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud he has committed."

"Jesus fuck, Hamilton, can't you go like eight minutes without diving into some Shakespearean sounding shit?" Jefferson jokes.

Madison reaches across and hits Thomas' arm. "That was beautiful, don't be rude."

"Yes, it was quite pretty," John comments, reaching over and taking my hand in his.

"Haha! Gay! You guys are so gay," Jefferson teases.

"He says that," Madison starts, "but it was his dick in my-"

He's cut off by Thomas' very loud voice. "Holy Bible! My dick was in the holy bible!"

I snicker and practically hear John's eyes roll.

We get to the restaurant finally and park. Somehow we find a good place since there's a parking garage nearby. The restaurant is Thai place, not too fancy but not too greasy either. I ate a lot of Thai food in the Caribbean because there were a lot of Thai restaurants there, and my mom was really good at making it. I grew up eating a lot of spicy curry and whatnot, so I seem to be able to handle anything spicy, with the occasional exception.

"Alex makes really good Thai food," John states as we all sit down.

"Correction, my mom makes really good Thai food. I just have a really good memory," I clarify. "And I can only make one thing. Other than that, I cannot cook for shit. Like, not even if my life depended on it."

"You should see Thomas in the kitchen," James says, smiling.

"Oh god, babe," Jefferson whines.

James chuckles and ignores him. "It's so cute. He'll wear a pink 'kiss the cook' apron and sing to twenties swing music. He knows how to cook all the southern delicacies. Fried green tomatoes, fried chicken, sweet potato pie, it's delicious."

"Oh yeah, you're a southerner!" John says, smiling. "I'm from South Carolina."

Thomas smiles broadly. "Wow, that's awesome. I loved the south growing up. New York is different. Did you like it?"

A waitress interrupts our conversation by taking our order. "Hi, my name is Jane and I'll be your server today. Can I start you off with drinks?"

John orders a Thai iced tea, I order a regular old coffee while Thomas orders a Thai iced coffee, and James states that he's fine with just water.

"And are you ready to order or do you need a few more minutes?" Jane asks after she's finished writing the orders down.

"I think we're ready." I get a few nods so I continue. "I'd like a Thai curry with tofu instead of chicken and white rice."

"I'll take a pad Thai with tofu instead of chicken and no egg," Thomas informs her.

"I'll just have a regular pad thai," John says.

"I'll have a Thai pumpkin soup," James mumbles, taking a sip of his water to punctuate his statement.

"Please have more than that," I hear Thomas whisper quietly.

James shakes his head. "I'm really not that hungry, babe."

Thomas sighs in defeat as the waitress walks away and looks at John. "Do you? Do you like the south?"

John shrugs and shakes his head. "Eh. I grew up in a really racist area, but I enjoyed the heat a lot."

"Please, You call South Carolina hot? Wait until you spend Christmas on a beach in ninety-degree weather. South Carolina has nothing on Nevis," I brag.

James lights up when I speak of my home country. "I have you all beat, Sudan was the hottest place I've ever traveled to. Yes, Alex, hotter than Nevis."

"When did you go to Sudan?" Thomas asks.

I come to the quick realization that Sudan must be where James immigrated from because for a quick second he can't seem to come up with an excuse, but I jump in before suspicions rise. "He told me he went while he still lived in Wisconsin or whatever. We were talking about it because I mentioned I wanted to visit Africa."

"Oof, careful there. It's like, crazy sketchy," Thomas states.

James gets a look on his face like he's biting his tongue and I decide now would be a wonderful moment to change the subject. John does too because he instantly chimes in with a new conversation topic.

"What is Washington's class like? I'm the only one at this table who doesn't take it but I hear a few stories," he says, smiling at me.

"Well, your hypothetical boyfriend acts like a flying squirrel sometimes," James says.

"What?" John looks shocked but intrigued.

"Oh god," I mumble.

"I've watched this boy push himself off and fly over a couple rows of seats to punch Charles Lee in the jaw," James continues.

"He almost did it the other day. It was awesome," Thomas laughs.

"Wait, I haven't heard that, what happened?" John asks.

"Well Charles Lee and Samuel Seabury called me a fag so Jefferson and I were about to attack, which would require me leaping across a few rows of seats to get to Charles' neck, but then Washington walked in and stopped the slaughter," I explain.

"Jesus dick, Alex, you went from a quiet kid who wouldn't even talk if someone glared at him to a fighting squirrel," John says, shocked.

"Wait, hold on, you mean to tell me, there was a time when Alex wasn't a loud mouth?" Jefferson looks utterly surprised.

"Yes, Thomas," I say. "There was a time in my life where I was shy and anxious and scared of everything."

"Don't get him wrong, he was still a loud mouth, only around me though," John states, smiling. "You should have heard him. The moment we got home he would just pace around our room and rant and rant and rant. I didn't mind though. I like it when he gets riled up."

"Wait, are you guys, like brothers or something?" James asks.

I crease my brows together. "What the fiddlesticks, no! Why would you even think that?"

He cocks his head. "Well, John was talking like you two shared a room or something."

"Ooh, okay there's the confusion," I mumble. "No, uh, I immigrated up to South Carolina when I was twelve and I had to live with a cousin who was shit. But then John and I became friends and I kinda lived at his house the mass majority of my childhood. It was really his room, but he called it our room."

"So wait, have you guys always been this close, like touchy and stuff, even before you admitted that it wasn't 'no homo' or whatever?" Jefferson asks.

John shrugs. "I mean, we started out not being very touchy, hell, we didn't even sleep in my bed. We would just get a cot or something for Alex. But we started getting more touchy in middle school because that's when we really started relying on each other more. And then, by the time high school was over, we were basically acting like a couple."

A waitress comes over and sets down our food. For a few minutes, we're quiet, eating our food. I notice how James is eating very little. The bowl isn't that big or anything, and it doesn't look like the soup is very dense or anything. I remember Thomas talking about James' less than healthy eating habits after Thanksgiving. Maybe I should talk to James.

"Alex, what was Nevis like?" The very guy I was just thinking about asks.

I look at James and smile. "Oh man, oh man, Nevis was beautiful. It had the best beaches. The nicest people. And oh, the sweets. They had so many candy shops. We would always have parades down the streets and festivals by the ocean and people would play volleyball and my brother and I would steal fruit from vendors, even though the vendors totally knew we were stealing. They didn't care. Sometimes we got enough peaches or apples or blueberries though and my mom would make us a pie. Nevis was beautiful."

"You have a brother?" Thomas pipes up.

I shrug. "Had. Not too sure where he is now though. But anyway, Nevis was beautiful. I would love to go back there sometime. John." I look at him. "I'd make you come too. You could see my home."

"He'd make me come, you hear that? If I ever go missing just know that I'm probably tied up on a sandy beach somewhere," John jokes.

I smirk at him. "Oh baby, you'd be tied up on my bed."

"Y'all need fucking Jesus," Thomas says, taking a bite of his food.

"Okay, I gotta ask. What's with the secrecy? Y'all walk around campus pretending to be just friends, but you fuck when you're alone. The only reason we know is that we caught you making out. Why aren't you guys just open about it?" John asks, his mouth half full of tofu.

James shrugs. "I have a cousin who works there, and if he saw Thomas and I being a couple he would tell my mom and they would disown me. I know, it's like, why would I want to keep contact with them if I just have to hide, but, like, I went through a lot with my family and, I just don't want to lose them. Not yet. I'm not ready."

I nod, taking a sip of my coffee. "I get that, man. I mean, I don't get it because well, the closest thing I've got to a family is John's family, but, like, I get where you're coming from."

We all finish up our meals and make our way to the theatre. It's just a short walk away so we don't bother taking Thomas' car. The walk is short and all of us are goofing around a bit. John, at one point, grabs my butt and I squeal so loudly it draws attention from strangers. Which of course, brings booming laughter from him and Thomas. After a few minutes of me pouting and then a few more of John being cute and kissing me, I forgive him.

"The soundtrack to this movie is really good. I listened to it the other day," I explain as we find decent seating. We sit down just as the previews start, and John instantly puts up the armrest and pulls me close to him. His arm stays around my shoulder while I place one hand on his thigh. James and Thomas are practically on top of each other as well. But it's nice. I'm glad Thomas and I aren't, like, rivals anymore. But, are him and I friends? That's something weird to think about, so I ignore the thought and watch the movie.

The movie starts out funny and entertaining, but when the police officer fires off the gun, John jumps. I look up at him to see his chest rising and falling rapidly and his eyes wide. I run my hand over his leg softly in hopes it'll calm him down. If I had realized how much the movie deals with stuff John has gone through or witnessed, I don't think I would've suggested it. John had witnessed an act of police brutality back in our hometown. A black guy was suspected of selling drugs but when he pointed out that the officers had no evidence and therefore no ground to arrest him, they started, well, they just got violent. This all went down while John was waiting for me to use the restroom in a gas station. John got out of his car to intervene but one of the officers hit him. Thankfully though, I came out quick enough to stop the mess. The man who the police were trying to arrest had no drugs on him, and they just assaulted a minor. Thankfully, they left. So did the man. We never really saw him after that. John was pretty shaken up though. I guess that's why he's really passionate about this stuff.

By the end of the movie, John has tears running down his face. He's not one to cry, but I know how stuff like this affect him. He is terrified of the police. He says that it doesn't matter where he is, if he sees a cop car or even hears the siren, he gets jumpy. I don't blame him. We've been roughly handled by cops a lot. And then he got hit. God, the legal system in America is just so fucked up. I feel bad for John because I know out of the two of us, it affects him the most. Sometimes he gets nightmares.

"Jesus, I didn't know the movie was going to be this heavy," I apologize as we walk out.

"It was really good though. It definitely brought light to the fact that police are very brutal and discriminatory against black people. And it's not like this is a new thing, it's just that people are getting on camera now. Could you imagine how bad it was in the seventies? The sixties? People of colour have suffered abuses great and small since the white people showed up. Truthfully, we need to talk about it more. Media doesn't advertise is half as much as it should," Thomas preaches.

"Exactly. In a few months I'm driving down to South Carolina to lead a protest about this stuff," John says, wiping any excess tears away from his cheeks. "Growing up, both Alex and I experienced so much of it. I once got hit by a cop. It was terrifying."

We walk back to Thomas' car, exchanging stories and opinions about police brutality and racism in the deep south. It's interesting to hear the stories that Thomas and James shared when it came to this stuff. Truthfully, they were a lot like John and I. Best friends since forever, one was an immigrant, gay for each other. Maybe Thomas and I had more in common than I thought. Which is weird to say because I hated him at the beginning of the year. But maybe things can change. They already have really, because here we are, finishing up a double date. Maybe Thomas and I aren't even rivals anymore. Just, acquaintances.


	16. Punch a nazi. Really racist people are acceptable too though.

/Alex/

Sunday is the last day before we go back to class after Thanksgiving. So John and I have decided to hang out around campus with Herc and Laf, who arrived late home last night. We take place outside the library, smoking weed and laughing. Maybe we're not exactly supposed to be using drugs outside on campus, but Herc buys cigarette papers and fills them with weed, so instead of passing around a very obvious blunt, we all sit together and smoke what looks to be cigarettes, laughing at Herc's stories of Lafayette trying to fit in when he first got to America.

"Did I ever tell you guys about Laf's first trip to McDonald's?" He says, smoke blowing out of his mouth and nose.

"Herc!" Laf giggles. He a bit higher than us since sometimes Laf just goes through phases of being high all the time. "You can't tell them that!"

"So Laf and I walk into a McDonalds at three am. We're both a bit high and we got the munchies hella. So we walk up to the counter and Laf, who is basically rubbing my dick through my pants at this point, looks at the waitress and he's like 'what would the chef recommend?' And I fucking lose it. Laf is utterly confused so I look at him and I say 'Laf, this is a McDonalds.' Laf, baby, do you wanna tell them what you said after that?" Herc is laughing as he takes another hit from the disguised blunt.

"I told them, 'oh, sorry, what would the McChef recommend?'" Laf tells us.

"Oh my fucking god, Laf, you fucking idiot," I laugh, leaning against John.

"Okay, guys, so let's hear it. Alex has hickeys and you two have been more touchy than usual, and that's saying something. What's up?" Herc asks.

I smile and look over at John. He looks back at me, a bit confused for a second, then I kiss him. He moans a bit in surprise but then kisses back. We kiss for a few more seconds, then pull away to see the shock on Herc and Laf's faces. Herc's jaw is dropped a bit and his eyebrows are higher that Laf. Meanwhile, our favorite French man is turning a bit red, smiling.

"Finally! You're dating!" Laf squeals.

"We're not dating," John tells them.

Laf's entire face drops. "Then what the fuck do you call this?"

I shrug. "Friends with emotional and occasionally sexual benefits. But, hypothetically, if he did ask me to be his boyfriend-"

John cuts me off. "Which I hypothetically am planning to do."

"Then," I finish, "I would hypothetically say yes."

"Wait, okay, sexual benefits?" Laf takes a long drag and blows smoke out of his nose.

"I told you, Laffy Taffy, when we first did anything, grinding was involved. And it still is involved." I shrug.

"God, you guys are fucking agonizing. I'm too sober for this. Laf hit me up with our thing," Herc mumbles. I watch in awe as Laf takes a long long drag from his blunt, then leans in and kisses Herc. Smoke escapes their locked lips, and then when they pull away, Hercules exhales more smoke.

"Whoa," I mumble.

Laf shrugs and takes another hit. "We practice."

"Ew Laf, gross," John comments. "That's gay."

"John, baby, this morning I asked you if I looked okay and you told me I looked 'super fab' so I really don't think you can talk right now," I point out. "And also you grind on me like you need to live."

John clutches his chest. "I feel personally attacked right now."

"Wow, no surprise the niggers are smoking weed on campus!" We all hear an annoyingly familiar voice call out.

John moves quickly, stomping out his blunt and standing up. "The fuck did you just call us? Do you want to speak again?"

"You heard me nigger boy," Charles Lee laughs. John walks up to him and I get up and follow, knowing things are going to get really heavy really fast.

"I'm going to give you one more chance to walk the fuck away right now. I know who the fuck you are Charles Lee. And if you think Alex gave you a beating, just remember, I've been doing this since middle school," John growls, his face inches from Lee's. At this point, Laf and Herc have joined us. Herc has puffed out his chest and put on one of the most terrifying glares I've ever seen.

"All you are," Lee began, "is dirty. No good. Rotten. Disgusting. Nigger."

So John hits him. And it seems once he starts he can't stop. Lee is on the ground at this point, barely holding onto consciousness, but John seems to only notice that he deserves to be hit again. I stand and watch in horror. I don't exactly know what to do. John has always had a few anger problems. Sometimes it's hard for him to control what he's feeling. I try my best to calm him down but right now, it seems like nothing can. John hates being called a nigger. All through middle school and high school, the word haunted him, sometimes in whispers, other times in shouts. John would always try to find the source of the voice. Sometimes I think it was his own inner demons that taunted him like that the most.

Suddenly, a suit comes into view and John is pulled off of Lee with the force of two men. Lee, who is beaten almost to a pulp, gets up and runs while John struggles to get out of Washington's arms. Washington's ever so stoic face is gone and replaced with hints of anger and empathy. John is still fighting to get out of Washington's arms, but I decide to finally step in.

"Hey, Johnny boy, hey, hey, look at me," I say sweetly.

John stops his struggle and makes eye contact, the anger for Lee still very apparent.

"That's right, C'mon baby, come back to me. Come on, deep breaths, there we go, come on, that's my Johnny boy. I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere," I continue.

John stops struggling and looks down. Washington releases him and I gently take his hands. He looks as if he's going to cry almost. John doesn't cry a lot, so I know this must've really cut deep. So, I take him in my arms and hug him. He hugs back, holding me close to him. Sometimes it amazes me how this boy can go from a violent being of pure rage to soft and gentle with me in a matter of seconds.

"No one's ever called me that here. I thought it was different here," John mumbles.

I take his face in my hands and lean up to kiss his forehead. "I'm sorry, baby. I know how much that hurts you."

John sighs. "I probably fucked up my hand too."

"Nothing a few kisses and some ice can't fix," I laugh softly.

"What happened?" Washington's voice breaks the moment.

"Lee called us niggers," Herc explains.

Washington groans. "I knew teaching at a school with white kids was going to be like this. God, sometimes I think white people should be extinct."

"Me fucking too," I agree.

"I'll have to talk to the administration board. This Lee kid is at a point where I'm vouching for him to get kicked out," Washington mumbles. "John, ice your hand. Alex, don't forget about the essay that's due tomorrow about-"

I cut him off. "I finished it last week."

That brings an eye roll and a smile from Washington. "Of course you did. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

John looks over at Herc and Laf. "Sorry for blowing up."

Herc shakes his head. "No, the guy deserved it. You seemed to take being called that really personally like the word has had a history with you, can I ask why?"

John sighs. "It's just, Alex and I were called that nonstop when we lived in South Carolina. And, I just, I hate it. Our people paid for that word in blood. My ancestors died on this very soil to the tune of that word. And they did not do it so fucking Charles Lee can throw it around like it's nothing. I just, this stuff is important to me."

"Charles Lee is a pussy," I mutter. "I'd fight him any day."

"Let's go back to your dorm and just get, like, stoned as shit. Maybe invite Jefferson and Madison or something. Fuck racists, I'm a proud biracial, French-American and it's my goddamn right to get stoned with my friends!" Laf declares. John laughs and I text Jefferson to come to my dorm and bring weed. John places his hand in mine and I gently rub my thumb over his skin.

"Hey, baby girl?" He says as we make it to our dorms.

"Yes, Papi?" I joke.

John looks at me and bites his lip. "I'm not exactly unopposed to you calling me that."

I give him a look. "Oh really?"

He smiles. "Anyway, I just wanna ask about like, our Christmas plans."

"No, hold on, I wanna hear more about Papi John," I joke.

John quickly glances over to make sure Herc and Laf are occupied with talking to each other, then he pressed me against a wall and kisses me. "Now that's a good use for your pretty little mouth."

"I can think of better ones," I whisper, rolling my hips against his.

"Hey, white rabbits, you gonna need a few minutes in your dorm alone?" Laf calls out.

"Are we?" John questions, an almost hopeful look in his eyes.

I smirk. "No, we'll be just fine."

John pouts but continues walking, holding my hand.

We make it to our dorm and Laf and Herc make up an excuse about looking for some weed in their dorm. I can't tell if they want to fuck or if they want us to fuck. Honestly, at this point, I couldn't care less, because when John and I enter our dorm, he peels off his jacket and pushes me softly onto the bed.

"So, kitten, tell me, what should we do with this sudden alone time we have?" John asks, lying down next to me. We're positioned so we're both on our sides, facing each other and watching each other's cheeks turn subtly redder.

I reach my hand down and begin rubbing the front of his jeans. "I have some-"

I'm cut off by knocking. "Open up my brother!"

"Jefferson," I groan. I get out of bed and open up to see Jefferson and Madison standing there, arms full of weed as well as ways to smoke it. I invite them in and call over Laf and Herc, who look as if they were about to go a little farther than I was going to with John. But, they do have weed. A lot of it too.

"Jefferson, is that a penis bong?" John asks.

Jefferson nods. "You know it, baby. Because I suck dick."

"Okay, let's get stoned," John says, pulling out his pipe and loading it up.

We've hotboxed mine and John's entire dorm. It's not just a bit of a haze, the room is smoky. Everyone is high. At this point, we're all so spaced out that we can barely even stand. Madison and Jefferson are sitting in front of each other, touching each other's faces and complimenting the other of their soft skin. Laf and Herc are looking at cat memes and laughing, while John and I sing to music and try to reenact that scene from Dirty Dancing when they're crawling around on the floor.

"Sylvia!" John calls out, in sync with the music.

"Yes, Mickey!" I reply, wiggling my butt as I crawl a bit closer.

"How do you call your loverboy?" He asks, his voice rough.

I grab his shirt and pull him close to me. "Come here loverboy!"

John smirks. "And if he doesn't answer?"

I place my hand on the front of John's pants and smile. "Oh loverboy..."

"And if he still doesn't answer?" John exclaims.

"I simply say, baby!" I sing breathlessly, falling onto my back and pulling John with me. "Oh, baby. My sweet baby, I'm in love."

"You two are fucking gay!" Thomas yells.

"Herc and I have the munchies," Laf sighs.

"Let's order one pizza for all of us. Like, one each. Six large pizzas. Six pizzas, six, six Alex. You know? Six. Six, six, six, six," Herc mumbles,

"Six," I repeat, pulling out my phone. I go to the New York pizza place I keep in my contacts and I call them. It takes two rings for them to pick up. John is taking a hit off of Jefferson's dick bong.

"Hello, Famous Famiglia pizza, how can I help you?" I hear a voice say.

"I need six large cheese pizzas," I say slowly. "Six of them. Six. Large. Cheese. Please."

"Delivery or pickup?" The voice continues, unfazed by how high I am.

"Delivery. We're in the freshman dorms at Columbia University. Second floor, room 247. And also we're gonna need two liters of Diet Coke," I confirm.

"No! Regular Coke and Diet Dr. Pepper!" Jefferson yells.

I sigh. "Scratch that. Two liters of regular Coke and two liters of Diet Dr. Pepper. And the six pizzas. All cheese. Large."

"Okay bud, I'll be there in half an hour." The employee hangs up the phone and suddenly water splashes on both me and John.

"Hydrate or die-drate!" Herc yells.

"What the fuck?" I mumble, wiping my face.

"He's yelling mental health and wellbeing at us now," Laf says, his face dripping.

"You are all important and appreciated!" Herc's voice is louder than necessary.

I hear John sniffle and I look over to see him with tears in his eyes. "It's working."

I groan loudly and pull John into my arms, adjusting him so he's resting between my legs and I'm leaning against my bed, with him leaning against me. "Hey baby, don't cry. Your skin is too pretty to be stained with tears."

"Speaking of John's skin, how many freckles does he have?" Laf asks.

"Three hundred and thirty-two," I answer quickly, running my fingers through his hair.

"How the fuck do you know this?" James asks.

I shrug. "One time John got out of the shower once and was lying on his bed naked so I just counted. He has sixteen on his butt alone. It was super fun because I got to stare at him and count and touch his butt."

"Wait, freckles only come from the sun. John, are you suntanning your butt?" Thomas asks, taking a hit from a blunt.

"He goes to a tanning salon," I laugh, petting John's hair.

"Alex! You weren't supposed to tell anyone!" John exclaims.

"Are you, like, blackish though? Why would you need to tan?" Herc asks, bewildered.

John shrugs. "I get sad when winter comes around and for some reason, an extra boost of UV rays and vitamin D help me. It's not like I'm in there for hours. Just fifteen minutes once a week and I'm good. So yes, my butt gets tan."

"I like tan John. I remember before he would do this he would just be sad and pale in the winter and it was boring. Now he's tan and happy," I say, leaning down and kissing the top of his head. His hair tickles my face.

"Okay but, real shit though. So you guys grew up together, right?" Thomas says, smoke blowing out of his mouth.

John takes a hit off of his pipe. "Yeah, we did."

"What happened, when, like, you wanted to jerk off?" Jefferson gives us a serious look.

Madison hits his chest and laughs. "Oh my god! Tommy!"

"One of us would shower! Or we'd just tell the other and the other would leave the room for a bit. Or we'd just go to the bathroom," John explains.

"Did you ever jerk off in front of each other? Did you ever talk about it?" Laf is now very intrigued.

I laugh. "We did not talk about it unless we were high and we never jerked off in front of each other but I think there was one instance where I was drunk and he was drunk and we were both horny so we watched porn and jerked off together. But that was easily never talked about again until now."

"Wow, bros understanding other bros sexual needs. That's a serious bro connection," Herc tells us solemnly.

"I was touching John's dick an hour ago," I state bluntly.

"Bro," Thomas laughs. "Okay, what about fights? Did y'all ever fight?"

I shake my head. "We disagreed, yeah, but we never, like, fought."

John holds up his hand. "There was that one time you got mad and pushed me onto the bed and got on top of me and pinned me down and told me that funner was not a word and then we almost kissed."

"You got into a fight about a word?" Laf looks surprised.

"Funner is not a word! John kept saying it was but it's not!" I exclaim. Suddenly, John's phone rings. No one's calling, it's most likely and E-Mail or text.

"It's my professor. Something about finals," John mumbles, squinting at his phone. I know when he smokes weed his dyslexia goes from slight to impossible. So, I watch him for a second, squinting, holding his phone close to his face, mouthing the words, then shaking his head and mouthing them again. This is why I read to John. Because it makes me sad to see him like this.

"Hey, baby, let me read it," I whisper quietly.

"No, I can read it. I'm not stupid," John mumbles.

"You are most definitely not stupid. Am I stupid?" I ask him.

He shakes his head.

"But do I still need your help with things? Like quizzing me in the shower or double checking my writing?" I continue.

He nods.

I take his hand in mine. "Needing help does not mean you are stupid, baby. It just means you can admit when something is too much."

John sighs and hands me his phone. "I can't, I can't read it right now."

I kiss his cheek and hug him close to me. "And that's perfectly okay." I look at his phone and begin reading. "'Hello students of Columbia University! As you should know and hate, finals are coming up! I just want to remind you all that you can study any of my notes or classes online and can always come to ask me for help. I really would only like to have you guys for two semesters so please don't fail this. Au revoir, your professor.'"

"Thank you," John mumbles, taking his phone back.

"Hey, smile," I say. When John resists I start tickling him, instantly bringing a smile to his lips. He starts laughing and turns around to kiss me so I'll stop.

"Ew, gay," Jefferson mumbles.

"Oh whatever," John mumbles as he gets situated between my legs again.

"Have you guys ever showered together?" Laf asks.

"Well yeah, in gym class." I shrug and gently run my hand up and down John's chest.

"Have you seen each other's dicks, like, before you got sexual?" Jefferson is on the edge of his seat.

John creases his eyebrows. "I mean, we saw flashes, but I don't think we ever took the time to look, though."

James starts snickering. "Who's bigger?"

"John," I deadpan. "He's also topping in case any of you were thinking about-"

Laf cheers while Jefferson hands him ten bucks.

"You bet on it?" I ask, astounded.

Laf nods. "For sure. I knew it was John because he has big dick energy. Jefferson thought it was you because 'you were a big dick' and he couldn't see that attitude being topped by someone."

"Wow, okay, that's nice," John mumbles.

Everyone takes a second to smoke up again, John and I blowing smoke into each other's face and laughing, Herc and Laf making out, and James switching between blunt and inhaler. He does look really thin.

A knock on the door brings cheers from us and I get up to greet the pizza boy. I only then realize, when I open it, how much smoke is in this room. It begins to leak out so I have to quickly exchange the money for the pizza and soda. I call out a quick thank you and then close my door so we can continue the hotboxing. I hand out the pizzas realize how happy this group of stoners looks to have a whole pizza to themselves.

"Okay, Laf," I say. "I know you and Thomas fucked around for a while and then mutually cheated on each other. But I also know you guys did a lot of drugs together. So, like, what's the craziest thing you and him have done while on drugs?"

Laf looks at Thomas and laughs, his mouth full of pizza. "Okay, so one time Thomas and I were like, crazy high. Like, we both used to be coke addicts, and we were like, really high on coke. Like I had just snorted enough lines to spell all my names, and I have a lot of names. Like, eight. So Anyway, Thomas and I are walking around the streets of Paris, and we end up in an art museum, and we hook up. Not in a bathroom or anything, just in a back hall. So like, I think hooking up in the louvre is my greatest achievement and best memory of being high with Thomas. What about you Tommy boy?"

Thomas laughs. "Well, one time Laf and I got really really drunk, and Laf dressed up in drag and we went to a strip club and Laf was confused with one of the strippers and I watched him do a strip show while hammered. Did you guys know Laf was a stripper for like, a couple years?"

"I would still do it," Laf says, looking at his nails. "I loved it. It was the best part of my high school years."

"You stripped through high school?" Herc asks. "How did I not know this? Like, I knew you stripped but for a couple of years?"

Laf nods. "After my mom kicked me out of the house I needed to make money somehow. I was a tall fourteen-year-old. And like, the girls and guys I was stripping with were really nice. I remember when I met Herc and started talking about needing to save up to move to America, they let me use the whole stage for myself a few nights so I could get some extra money. I miss them."

"What about you, John and Alex? Any crazy stoner stories?" Herc asks.

I smile. "One time John and I got really high and we painted each other. Like, we went out and dropped about two hundred bucks on painting supplies and then painted each other."

"Oh my god, that's everything," Herc laughs.

"Fuck, I'm so hungry," I hear James mumbles as he starts working on his fourth slice.

"You're like, really skinny James. You gotta eat more pizza," Herc says, putting one of his slices in James' box. "It's important for short boys with poor health to eat."

"Eating is hard," James mumbles.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because, like, I just have so much more stuff I could be doing. You know?" James looks at me.

I nod. "Yeah, I get that. For a while, in high school, eating was a really difficult thing for me to do. I would go days without even touching food. I think the longest I ever went was twelve days, just because I was so distracted and busy with other things. But, like, it took a really bad toll on me. My hair was falling out, I was bruised as the slightest things, my nails were purple, my eyes were sunken in, and I could barely function like a human being. It was just really bad. John remembers that time really well."

"Yeah," John nods. "It was terrifying. Like, I could see Alex's bones. He just looked so tired. I eventually just had to take him to a doctor. The doctor explained what this was doing to Alex and I think that sort of just got Alex to, like, stop. I, of course, had to really make sure Alex was eating, but he did start to remember himself. He gained weight and my god, he looks so beautiful now. He eats on his own too. I just have to make sure he stays like that sometimes. It's hard for him on occasion, but I'm so proud of him for coming this far."

James sighs. "I know Thomas worries about me. I can see it in his eyes."

Thomas reaches out for James' hand. "I do."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm like this." James voice cracks. "I'll try though. I want to try."

Thomas smiles and hugs him close. "Thank you. That's all I want."

"We're on a roll! Do we have any other problems?" John says, taking a hit and blowing smoke out of his nose.

"I want to strip again!" Laf says loudly.

"Herc! Opinion!" John exclaims.

"As long as he doesn't like, get up close with people. Like, watching him pole dance would be nice, but I don't want to watch him give a lap dance to someone," Herc says.

"Yay! I'm back in business baby! Herc, design me lingerie!" Laf squeals, knocking over his boyfriend with a hug.

"John, you got any problems with me?" I ask, my lips brushing against his neck.

"Only that you aren't naked and on my dick," John mumbles.

"That's nice," I laugh, hugging him a bit closer. And I feel happy in that moment. I feel so very happy.


	17. Eliza, Maria, Naomi, Martha and JoHN

/John/

"I swear to god I'm gonna eat your ass!" I joke as I sit with my friends Naomi and Martha at lunch. "Legally Blonde was a way better musical than Mean Girls."

Marth huffs. "You have no taste, John Laurens."

"Neither of you have a taste! Heathers was obviously the best!" Naomi argues. We had all decided to meet up at the library for lunch together, still cheery due to the fact that classes had only been going on for a few days and we weren't yet sleep deprived. Since Alex does not find the time for lunch between his studies, I am often thrown in with my girl group. I know, the stereotype of the one gay guy in a group of girls is holding up, but, I'm not even gay, I'm just in a gay ill-defined relationship, and it's not like I am giving them fashion advice or I'm just the token gay boy, we're all friends because we like each other, and girls are really nice to hang with.

"All of you suck," Eliza says, coming and sitting on the arm of my chair. "Rent will forever be the best musical in the history of all the musicals."

"Hey, ladies," I call out, getting the three girls attention. "My little lion man is gonna be out tonight, at a lecture by Washington or something, would the three of you like to come over?"

"Um, duh. Just be prepared for things to get messy. We're not letting you off easy this time," Eliza smiles. "Can my main girl Maria come too? I told about all the fun we had last time and she was jealous she couldn't get in with it."

"You know I'm always down for another person. We ain't gonna run out of room or anything," I say, taking a bite of my sandwich Alex made me this morning. It's just wheat bread, peanut butter, and honey, which is my favorite.

"Oh hey, did you hear about Madison?" Naomi gasps.

"What about him?" I question.

Naomi looks around. "Some people are saying he's illegal. Like, an immigrant."

My face pales. "Who told you that?"

Naomi shrugs. "It was just my friend who works at the office. She says there's no record of Madison anywhere before the age of seven, and that's when he moved to Virginia."

"Don't, don't tell anyone else, okay? Some people don't know," I beg her.

She nods, a bit confused, but then we go back to eating.

"John, how is Alex?" Eliza asks.

I smile and sigh. "He's wonderful. God, I'm just so helpless around him."

"Aw, Johnny boy is love." Martha laughs and points at me. "Not that it's anything new though. John has been crushing on Alex since he could walk."

"For the record," I butt in, "I didn't start crushing on Alex until the last couple of years of high school and I didn't even realize it until like, September of this year, so..."

"Ugh, whatever John," Eliza laughs.

I raise my eyebrows. "What about you and miss Maria Reynolds? When did she walk into your life?"

Eliza blushes. "Well, her and I have just been hanging out and stuff. She's still sort of seeing James so we haven't really done anything. But oh my god, she's so beautiful. She has this long hair, I could touch it forever. And don't get me started on her lips. She has these plump strawberry honey flavored lips. I get drunk kissing them."

"'We haven't really done anything,'" Naomi mocks. "Okay, Liz."

"Okay ladies, my lunch is almost up. I'll see you in my dorm at five. Bring all the stuff and let's please try not to be too loud this time? Herc and Laf were complaining that we kept them up with our screaming." I smile and stand up.

"Bye John, can't wait for tonight," Martha smiles. I walk out of the library, throwing away my trash, and then heading towards my class and hoping I pass Alex on the way. We always seem to cross paths right here, and it always makes for a nice few minutes of us talking and smiling and kissing.

"Laurens, my dearest," I hear his sweet voice ring as I cross the courtyard. I turn around to see him, wearing a smile as well as my hoodie. His almost demolished laptop bag, which I plan on replacing for Christmas, is around him and his hair is up. A bit of a five o'clock shadow grows on his face but compares very little to the shadows under his eyes.

"Alexander, my love." I let the words slip from my lips.

He is quick to wrap his arms around me and tilt his head up. "Hiya, gorgeous."

I place my hands on his cheeks and kiss him gently. He tastes like coffee, Gatorade, and the faintness of cigarettes. That brings alarm to my heart but I decide to put off the conversation until later, knowing that it's easy to talk to him about stuff if I don't catch him off guard.

"Hey, John?" He whispers, his lips still brushing mine.

"Yes, my dearest?" I reply, one of my hands slipping down and holding his hip.

"You are truly an ethereal existence on this earth," he tells me, smiling.

"As are you," I mumble. I kiss him again, ignoring the hint of tobacco and savoring the feeling of his lips on mine. Suddenly, I see something fall from the sky. Alex sees it too and his eyes light up. I stand there and stare upward with Alex as tiny snowflakes fall from the clouds.

"John! John! It's snowing!" Alex squeals. "It's snowing oh my god!"

"It's snowing baby!" I say, equally as excited. Alex embraces me and presses his lips to mine. While we both are excited about the snow, we easily forget about it and start to make out.

"As much as I would love to take you back to our dorm and offer you a variety of services, I have to get to my next class. Stay safe my dearest love. Smile for me." Alex pecks my lips once again and then gently squeezes my ass before sauntering off to wherever he needs to be.

I just stand there, smiling for a second, then snap out of my daze and make my way to my psych class. It's long and boring, but soon it's over and I'm in my oceanology class, which holds my attention easily. I'm surprised though, to find Alex waiting for me when I get out of class. Usually, I'm home before he even steps out of the building. But there he is, leaning against the wall, smiling at me.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" I ask.

"My English professor's hangover," Alex smiles. "And my awesome debate skills."

"Well, my dearest Alexander Hamilton, it seems we have been given a total of forty minutes before you abandon me tonight, so how would you like to fill this time?" I take his hand in mine and we begin walking towards our dorms.

Alex leans against me. "Well, we could play a board game, watch a movie, commit sodomy, get some food."

"I like that third option for maybe later tonight, eh?" I point out, smiling and bumping into him a bit.

Alex laughs and squeezes my hand as we enter the dorm building. "Yeah, that sounds pretty nice now that I think about it."

"I think I just wanna hold you for the half hour we have together," I say as we step onto the elevator together.

He sighs and rests his head against my shoulder. "That sounds nice."

We get to our dorm and kick off our shoes before falling onto my bed. I somehow manage to pull blankets over the two of us. Alex pushes one of his hands up my shirt and rests it on my chest, right above my heart. I pull him close to me and lie on my back, placing my hand on his leg, which is had placed across my waist. Alex's lips are pressed against my neck, leaving waves of his warm breath flowing across my skin. I close my eyes and take the time to focus on how he feels against me. His skin, his hair, him.

"You know," I start, my voice barely above a whisper, "I would have never thought that we would become more in our first semester of college."

Alex hums. "I'm glad we did. You still have to ask me to be your boyfriend though."

"Do you want to be my boyfriend?" I question.

"Sure," Alex chuckles.

"Okay boyfriend, now what have I not done yet?" I tease, squeezing his thigh.

"Me," Alex smirks.

I scoff and roll so I'm on top of him, staring at his beautiful chocolate eyes. "Well, you'll have to wait a bit longer for that. You think you can hold off?"

Alex groans, moving his hips against mine. "Fine. But I want unlimited kisses."

I smile as his childishness and plant a long and sweet kiss on his lips. "No problems with that. What exactly is this lecture about?"

"Well, it's more like a mock trial kind of thing. Like a murder trial sort of, but with Washington explaining it. It's really cool so I'm excited to go." Alex twirls my hair in his fingers as he talks. I like it when he does that.

"Well, you'll have to tell me all about it when you come back." My fingers run along his cheeks, brushing away a few loose hairs.

"John," Alex moans lightly when I lean down and plant a kiss on his jaw. I chuckle and keep kissing him. His arms wrap around my torso and pull me close to him. I always love being this close with Alex. It's so comforting to feel his body against mine. The way his chest rises when he gasps, the way his fingers dig into my back when I kiss him. I just want to memorize his skin with my lips. He's so beautiful.

"Fuck, what time is it?" Alex mumbles, fumbling to find his phone on the nightstand. He checks it and his eyes go wide. "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw sideways on a Tuesday, I have to go. John, I would love to continue this but I have ten minutes and I want to get there early. Have fun tonight, I'll bring you back some donuts or something."

I roll off of him sadly and let him get up and scramble to get his stuff. He tells me one more goodbye and pecks my lips really quick before running out of the door. For a second I lie there, happily thinking about Alex, but then I decide I best clean up before the girls get here. Not that we're not going to just make a mess of things again. But, regardless, I clean up the trash, make my bed, then light a few candles. I slip on a pair of loose blue boxers and some socks, turning up the heat so no one gets cold. Thankfully, I have a few minutes to prep myself before the three girls come bursting into my room.

"John! Baby!" Naomi says, laughing as she peels off her sweater to reveal her heavy metal crop top that barely covers her boobs. Her shorts come off to reveal just some black underwear. "I'm so ready for this. You have no idea how much I have needed a stress reliever these past few days. Especially with finals.

Eliza is peeling off her clothes too, leaving her in just some spandex shorts and a sports bra. "Me too honey."

"Girls, we gotta take a moment to appreciate John. Ain't no man gonna treat us like he does," Martha laughs. She's now in just her underwear and a sports bra. Maria, who seemed a little uncomfortable and confused at first, has now relaxed and stripped down into just her undergarments too.

"What should we start with?" Eliza wiggles her eyebrows at me as I pull my hair up in a bun. I know I need to or I'll get stuff in it and I love my hair too much for that.

"The same thing we always start with," Martha says, reaching into her bag. "Face masks!"

All the girls scream and start putting their hair up as Martha gets out an assortment of clay masks. She's studying dermatology so she has access to all these really cool face masks, which is always nice for the occasional spa night all of us have at my dorm. We don't like to wear many clothes because, really, who does? I'm glad these girls have confidence in themselves though. It's not like I'm looking at the four most in shape and skinny girls on campus here. Naomi and Matha have over the years acquired a round figure leaving them with pouches of fat on their stomachs and cellulite and stretch marks on their thighs. Eliza has a very pear-shaped figure, with smaller breasts but wipe and cello shaped hips. Even Maria has many very obvious stretch marks on her hips and stomach and thighs. But all of them are beautiful. From Eliza's wide and caring smile to Maria's curly dark hair, and Naomi's intelligent face, and even Martha's sparkling eyes. These girls deserve to love themselves.

"John," Eliza starts as I begin to apply the charcoal mask. "What moisturizer do you use? Your skin is so pretty."

"Oh shit, okay so have you guys ever heard of this hemp shit you can get at Ulta Beauty?" I continue spreading the mask on my face. The girls nod so I continue. "Okay, so I moisturize with the original kind twice a day."

"Is that all you do for your skin?" Maria asks.

I shake my head. One of the reasons I love hanging out with these girls is because I can't exactly talk about my skincare routine with anyone else. Not even Laf. Guys just get set in their habits really quick and are often times not open for suggestion. "Okay well, I use Ives face scrub in the shower every night and then this really cool Ives green tea face stuff, which like, keeps my skin crazy clear. Then when I get out I use the hemp moisturizer, then I spray my face with rose water. In the morning though I use a Burts Bees toner and wash my face, then moisturize with the hemp lotion again. I have very sensitive skin too so these products are very safe."

"John has his fucking life put together," Naomi comments as she wipes some of the clay off onto a towel, then passes it to Martha so she can do the same. "Clear skin, boyfriend, good grades, I'm jealous."

I laugh at Naomi and take a sip out of my water bottle. "Put together? Oof girl, I dunno what you've been taking, but like, my broke ass is scrambling to find a place to stay over Christmas break with my gay boyfriend and his constant need for caffeine."

Eliza perks up. "Stay with me. Well, like, not in my apartment. Hold on, let me back up. Okay so our parents are rich and that's obvious, but my dad always wants me to invite friends over for Christmas. Laf and Herc already agreed to come, my boo Maria is maybe coming. I asked these two but apparently they want to go to Italy more. Our father just lives upstate a bit. Please come? I know Alex and you will love it."

I sigh. "I don't want to intrude."

Eliza laughs. "You won't be. Come on, please Johnny boy? Pretty please?"

I sigh and laugh. "Okay, okay. I'll talk to Alex about it."

"John, you better keep an eye on your man by the way," Eliza points says, bringing nods from Naomi and Maria.

I laugh. "Why's that, miss Schuyler?"

"Because Thomas Paine, a guy in our statistics class, has been flirting with him. I don't think Alex knows because he's so oblivious to literally everything," Naomi says, pulling out some nail polish and other things for manicures. I never paint my nails but I do trim them and file and buff and what not.

"Okay, hold on, define flirting," I say, grabbing a nail file.

Eliza laughs. "Okay, I'll be Alex, Naomi, you be Thomas."

"Hey, Alex," Naomi says in an obnoxiously deep voice, wrapping her arm around Eliza. "Whatcha doing there cutie?"

"Oh nothing, just working," Eliza says in a higher and raspier voice.

"You really are a sexy thing. Would you like to suck my dick?" Naomi lifts her eyebrows and very dramatically touches Eliza's thigh.

"Haha Thomas Paine, you're so funny," Eliza laughs, "I'm so glad we're friends."

"Alex is not that stupid," I say, taking a nail clipper and clipping off a ragged edge.

Eliza laughs and cuddles up to Maria. "Ha! The boy may be a genius, but when it comes to people, he couldn't pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel."

I raise an eyebrow. "What about me?"

Maria rolls her eyes and scoffs. "Please, you two have been friends for years. You don't count. My first memory of Alex was him staring at my boobs and then asking me if I knew how to count in German."

"That was at my apartment," Eliza comments lightly.

"In Alex's defense, you have big boobs and big boobs startle him for one reason or another. And he's very socially anxious so yes a lot of times he is bad at starting off conversations," I say.

"Guys it's time to peel the mask," Martha says excitedly. This is our favorite part because it's so satisfying. So, we peel the mask off, throw away the remnants, and then I get my hemp lotion for them all to try. After that, we all go onto painting and buffing our nails. I don't like to paint mine usually but something in me is begging for me to paint them a nice maroon. So, much to the girl's excitement, I grab a bottle.

"Have you ever painted your nails before?" Eliza asks.

I shake my head.

"Okay then let Maria do it. She's like, the best at painting nails. Seriously, I make her do mine all the time," Eliza chuckles, waving over Maria.

"Okay so, like, Eliza, Maria," Naomi starts. "Define your relationship."

Maria laughs. "We're just friends right now. I'm still with James. I just have to work up the courage to end things with him and then we're gonna date."

"Do you need your girl group behind you?" Martha asks, gesturing to all of us.

"Excuse me," I chime.

Martha rolls her eyes. "Do you need your women group behind you?"

"Thank you," I mumble as Maria starts to paint my nails.

Maria laughs. "Maybe. I don't really know how he'll react and he's kinda scary when he's mad. I don't like bringing out that side of him."

"Mmmm girl, you gotta get out of that relationship as soon as possible, you don't deserve someone who you're scared of. Date Liza, she's like, the opposite of scary. When she's mad she just gets cuter," I point out, shaking my head a bit.

"John, your inner gay is showing," Martha laughs, painting her nails a nice sunset pink.

"My inner gay is always showing, I'm dating a boy," I state, laughing and blowing on one hand while Maria paints the other. The color is really nice and suits me. Maybe I'll start painting my nails more often.

"I don't even know how to break up with people," Maria tells us, obviously embarrassed.

"I don't either," I say, hoping to make her feel not as bad.

"I do! You can write them a letter, you can say 'hey, I don't want to date you anymore,' to their faces, you can have sex in their bed with someone else, you can fuck their dad, you can introduce them to your new spouse," Martha lists.

"Maybe a letter. But I'd need to get my stuff. I kinda live with him," Maria mumbles. "Oh, I don't even know if he'd let me."

"I have some friends, Hamilton, Mulligan, Marquis De Lafayette, as well as Jefferson and Washington. I'm sure we could accompany you to get your stuff," I state. "We're all big and scary. Well, maybe not Hamilton or Lafayette, but they can yell at and insult your boyfriend just as easily as I can punch him in the jaw."

Maria smiles as she finishes my nails and then goes to grab a bottle of red polish. "Oh, thank you so much. I'm sorry for being so dramatic about this, it's just difficult."

Naomi smiles. "And we're gonna be with you every step of the way."

The night goes on and soon enough we're all crying and watching Brokeback Mountain. Since we are all pretty gay the movie means so much more to us than just jokes. It's heartbreaking and I don't know why Martha suggested it but now we're all crying and cuddled up to each other. Eliza is hugging Maria as small sobs shake her body quietly. Tears are running down my face as I think about what that kind of life would be like with Alex.

"John I'm-"

The lights go on and everyone looks up from my laptop to see a shocked Alex standing in the doorway, wearing my thick winter jacket since he doesn't have one. I can only imagine what he's seeing. His boyfriend, in just his boxers, cuddled up to four other girls in just their undergarments, crying his eyes out to a gay cinema with his hair braided and in a bun.

I lean forward and pause the almost finished movie, wiping my tears. "Hey, baby."

"What, no wait, I'm gonna skip the 'what' and go straight to why," Alex deadpans.

"Girls night!" Eliza says happily.

Alex has to just stand there for a few seconds, taking in the scene. Then he starts chuckling. He sets down he bag, turns out the light again, and sits between my legs, playing the movie. It only has a few more minutes, so the rest of us resume our crying while Alex just sits there, very confused. When it's over, the girls get dressed and collect their stuff. I kiss their cheeks goodbye as they leave and then turn to a smirking Alex.

"Don't laugh at me," I say, pointing my finger.

"I'm not laughing," Alex replies, laughing.

"It's a stress reliever!" I defend.

"Your nails look very pretty," Alex comments, ignoring what I just said.

"I know. I look fucking beautiful," I mumble, falling on the bed he's sitting on.

Alex smiles. "Yeah baby, you do."

I'm about to cuddle him when, once again, I smell the familiar smell of tobacco. I sniff his shirt, then look up at him. "Oi, babe, explain."

Alex's face turns a light pink. "What?"

"You smell like an ashtray," I state. I lean up and kiss him, then pull away after a few seconds. "Ugh, you taste like one too."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alex quickly mumbles as he reaches out for his laptop. He writes when he doesn't want to talk about something.

I feel irritation bubble up in me. "Alex, I'm trying to talk to you about something that is bothering me. Which is important in a relationship."

"I don't want to talk about it," he says.

I sigh and close my eyes. "Are you smoking?"

Alex lets out an annoyed huff. "I said I don't want to talk about it."

I run my tongue over my teeth. Then, without thinking, I go to the other bed, bringing my laptop with me. It's originally Alex's, but we never use it anymore, except for when I got a fever a few weeks back, so, it's neatly made and clean. Which is a lot better than lying next to someone who stinks of tobacco smoke.

"John, don't be like that," Alex says, looking at me.

I shrug. "I don't like the smell of cigarettes, and I also don't want to share a bed with someone who won't communicate with me. You don't want to talk about it? Fine."

"John," Alex whines again. "It's not like I'm smoking a pack a day. I bum a cigarette of Jefferson on occasion when I'm feeling stressed. That's it."

"Well you smell like you bummed more than one tonight," I comment, still bitterly not meeting eye contact.

"Yeah, he and I hung out outside for a bit and chain-smoked. Why are you so upset over this? I don't go around whining about your less than ideal drinking habits," Alex mumbles.

"Excuse me? Last time I checked I'll get wasted at a party but that's it. And a beer doesn't take off minutes from my life!" I'm getting defensive now and I can feel it. It's never good when I start to get defensive.

"Yeah, but at least I can remember my own name after I smoke," Alex shoots.

I run my tongue over my lips. "I think it would be best if I spent the night elsewhere."

"What does that mean?" Alex asks as I stand up and begin to get dressed.

"It means that if we continue I'm going to say something I don't mean," I snap.

"John, wait, I'm sorry," Alex sighs, standing up and walking over to me. "I shouldn't have brought your drinking into this. It was low, even for me."

I get really sensitive about how much I drink. I have a lot of alcoholic tendencies, especially when I'm trying to deal with stuff. I started drinking heavily when my parents started fighting, which was about eighth grade. For a while there, drinking was all I did. At this point Alex and I had been friends for about a year and a half, so thankfully I didn't scare him off. Instead, he would hold my hair back when I threw up, and when I would get so drunk that I started crying, he would hug me and stay with me. Eventually, I found other and better coping mechanisms with his help, like smoking weed and going for drives, but alcohol is still something I have no self-control around. Once I start, it's hard for me to stop.

"It was," I say slowly.

"You have a right to express your concern to me, and a right to sleep next to someone who doesn't 'smell like an ashtray.' If we get done talking and you still want to leave, okay. But let's just try," Alex says, gently placing his hand on my arm.

"Change first. Brush your teeth too," I request politely.

Alex nods and slips off his hoodie and jeans, then finds a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt. While he brushes his teeth, I pull out my water bottle and take a sip, sitting on my bed and waiting for him. Finally, he emerges from the bathroom, looking a bit cleaner. He sits down next to me and gently takes my hands in his.

"Why don't you like me smoking?" He asks calmly.

I sigh. "Because I love your voice. I love hearing you talk. You have such a passion and it's beautiful to hear. What if something happens to that beautiful voice of yours? What if I can't fall asleep to your voice ever again? You don't know your family medical history, Alex, you don't know how at risk you are for cancer. What if you already have it? What if you're one cigarette away from getting it? I don't want to lose your beautiful voice Alexander, but more importantly, I don't want to lose you."

Alex lets out a slow breath and meets my watering eyes. Then he leans in and kisses me. The taste isn't the disgusting tobacco anymore, but just a calming mint. I kiss back slowly and sink into it, my hands resting on his cheeks. He's pressed against me, holding me close to him. I like it when he does this.

"You're right," he mumbles, his forehead pressed against mine. "You're right."

"I don't want to lose you," I whisper.

"You won't. I'll stop. I'm sorry." His voice wavers.

Deciding that I don't want to see him cry, I pull him into my arms and lie back onto the bed. He cuddles into me and I gently pull his hair out of the ponytail and run my hand through his hair, working out any tangles with my fingers. Alex and I rarely get into fights like this. I think the last time we did was when Alex started closing me out after his cousin died. That wasn't too long before the drive we took and him confessing the damage he had done to his wrists.

"Alex, can I check you?" I request quietly. I don't know where the sudden urge to make sure he wasn't cutting came from but it was there.

"Why?" He asks, his voice growing a bit too defensive for me to sit at ease.

"Do you have anything to hide?" I sit up with him.

He shakes his head and holds out his wrists. I run my hands over the soft skin, noticing how the small white lines are still there. I tug at his shirt and it comes off. I can see the small scars on his stomach from the hurricane. I don't even need to request Alex to pull his sweats down so I can make sure there's nothing on his thighs or hips. He's clean. Thank god. It kills me to see Alex's skin damaged or harmed in any way. He's just so pretty.

"I feel anxious," Alex states as he slips his sweatpants back on, as well as his tee shirt.

I run my hands through his hair and we lie back down. "Why?"

He shrugs.

"You wanna tell me about the thing you went to?" I ask.

He nods. "It was a mock murder trial that Washington set up. It was really fun to do, even though the walk there and back was freezing. Who the fuck actually likes snow? Anyway, I was working with Aaron against a few other kids in our class. Aaron was pretty annoyed with me at the end, claimed I talked too much. Ridiculous, I know."

I smile and hug Alex closer to me. "Yeah, ridiculous."


	18. Imported goods at a winters ball, and boy, sparks do NOT fly

John

"Babydoll, I told you, that's Thomas Paine over there," Naomi whispers as I watch Alex, who has finally gotten his own olive coloured winter jacket, walk arm in arm with some guy. He's taller than me, a stubbly chin, bright grey eyes, and pretty blonde hair. He's strongly built with plump lips formed into a sly smirk. He's laughing at something my Alexander is saying. Jealousy bubbles up in me.

"I'll be right back," I grumble, standing up. I put on a fake smile and walk over to the two.

"John! Hi!" Alex says cluelessly, kicking some snow up when he sees me.

"Hey, baby girl!" I smile, pulling him away from this Thomas Paine and into my arms. I plant a long kiss on his lips, which he happily returns. "I missed you."

Alex smiles and taps my nose. "Silly goose, it's only been five hours."

I shrug and kiss him again. "That's already too long." I then look to Thomas Paine. "Hello, I'm John Laurens, Alex's boyfriend."

I'll admit, the guy is intimidating. I stand at only an inch taller than Alex, while he has to be at least six foot four. I puff out my chest but realize all attempts at seeming scary are futile right now due to the flowers Naomi so delicately laced through my hair at lunch, as well as the polish on my nails and the fact that I'm wearing a shirt with a happy cartoon turtle saying 'shell yeah!' But last time I checked, I'm the one with Alex in my arms nuzzling my neck and smiling.

"I'm Thomas Paine," the guy states, his face turning to stone. "But you can call me Tom."

"Tom is in my statistics class. He's so funny," Alex smiles. Man, I love the boy, but he sure can be dense sometimes.

Tom smirks at me.

"It's nice to meet you. I've known Alex since we were kids, we're practically inseparable," I state, smiling.

"You guys are silly, John, my sweet galaxy boy, will you please walk me to class? We are a bit early so I know you have time, and I'm awfully cold in this fucking weather so I need my boyfriend to keep me warm," Alex says, leaning into me.

"While I have you both though, my frat is throwing a party tonight, would you like to come?" Tom says.

Alex nods and smiles. "Sure. We'd love to."

I nod too, even though I'm not sure how well me being around alcohol and this tall man will play out. Hopefully, though, I won't have to do anything I'd regret. So, I'll go to this party with Alex, and I'll make sure Tom gets the message loud and clear. I waited for this boy and now I have him. No tall blonde man with grey eyes is going to come along and change that. This is my Alexander.

"Tom is nice," Alex states as we walk hand in hand to his next class.

"Yeah," I grumble.

Alex looks at me and raises his eyebrows. "What was that?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, playing as dumb as Alex was a few minutes ago.

"That whole emo grumble you just did," Alex states.

I shrug. "Nothing."

"Do you not like Tom?" Alex doesn't sound angry or hurt, he just sounds curious, which is like him. I'm not one to dislike people, especially when I've just met them, so whenever I do, Alex is always interested in my reasoning.

"I just think he's a bit too nice," I say.

"Too nice? How can you be too nice? Being nice is wonderful," Alex sings, smiling.

"I mean he flirts with you," I mumble.

Alex now looks downright confused. "He does not."

"The man flirts with you like there's no tomorrow," I state. "You don't realize it because, and just know that I wouldn't trade you for anything in the world before I say this, when it comes to people, you are clueless."

Alex scoffs. "Okay mister grape jelly, how about before we go to Tom's party, we go out and get some dinner, just you and me? And then maybe I can show you just how much more I like you than him. Yeah?"

I smirk as we approach Alex's class. "How exactly would you do that?"

Alex plants a kiss on my lips and then walks into his class, but not before turning to look at me again. "I dunno, Lauren's, how would I do that?"

I stand there a moment, my cheeks bright red, then make my way to my next class. It's art, so I find myself sketching out my favorite thing to sketch. Alex. Professor Trumbull says that Alex has become my muse, and he likes the passion I use. I just like drawing my boyfriend. He's so nice to draw. The bit of stubble on his chin, the shape of his eyes, the color in his cheeks. He's like, perfect.

Finally, my classes are over and I make my way back to my dorm. Alex will be here in another fifteen minutes, so I decide to pick up a bit. The two of us can turn any room into a mess within a matter of hours. So, as I pull a pair of Alex's underwear out of an old pizza box, I think about what Alex meant. Does he want to go farther than just grinding? I mean, I wouldn't mind that. I don't think I'm totally ready for sex, but like, I wouldn't mind something else.

"Damn boy, do you work on a chicken farm? Because you certainly know how to raise a cock," I hear a voice say.

I turn around and laugh. "Alex, you're fucking ridiculous."

Alex holds up a bag of Chinese takeout. "Dinner?"

I smile and nod. "Yeah, let's have dinner."

So, while Alex lays out some pillows on the floor, I light a candle just to set the mood. We leave the curtain open and turn out the light so the warm candle is the only thing really illuminating us. I open up one of the boxes and begin to eat some chow mein while Alex happily chews on some Mongolian beef.

"How was your day?" I ask.

Alex shrugs. "Like any other. Oh except Laf and Jefferson had a freestyle rap battle in front of the class for extra credit today. Turns out they're both really good at rapping. Laf can rap really fast in French, and oh my god." Alex stops to laugh for a second. "He called Jefferson a small dicked big headed asswipe. And Jefferson didn't know what it meant! And only Washington and I did! I was cackling and not even Washington could keep it together." Alex wipes a few tears from his eyes and chuckles. "It was awesome. What about you?"

I shrug. "I drew you in my art class."

Alex gives me a flattered look. "You know, someday I'm gonna want to see these drawings you do of me, Mr. Laurens."

I laugh. "At the end of the semester. Speaking of which, how are you doing with finals coming up?"

Alex shrugs. "You know me, stressed, sleep deprived, tired. I'm sure next week I'll be a mess. Make sure I eat because you know I'll forget. Sorry if I don't give my perfect John enough attention, but you know me, I'll calm down after finals."

I lean in and kiss him. "Yeah, I know you, baby girl."

"Why do you call me baby girl?" Alex asks me, shoving some noodles into his mouth.

I shrug. "It just seems pretty natural. You're my baby girl."

"I'm a boy though," Alex points out.

"I'm not your dad but that didn't stop you from calling me Papi in your dream the other night," I shoot back, smirking.

Alex blushes and smiles.

"Does Papi get a kiss?" I ask, tilting my head.

Alex leans in. "Papi gets a lot more than a kiss if he wants it."

I nod. "Papi wants it."

Alex pushes the food aside and leans into me, kissing me with much vigor. I kiss back, my hands landing on his butt and squeezing it. Alex lets out a small moan against my lips and tangles his fingers in my hair. I smile against his lips and begin to fiddle with the zipper on his jeans as he does the same with mine. I can't help but moan as his hand wraps around my dick. I mirror the action with him and he thrusts his hips into my hand. It's amazing how many moans can fill the room when two virgin college kids give each other hand jobs. I can't stop kissing him though. I love the way his tongue feels against mine. At one point I jolt with pleasure and bite Alex's lip a bit hard, but he only moans in response. It's nice to be this close to him.

"Ah, fuck, fuck John. Fuck, go faster," he moans.

I quicken my hand and so does he. I can feel myself getting closer too.

"Ah! Ah god! Papi! Fuck!" Alex moans as he comes into my hand. Those words alone were enough to send me over the edge, grunting as I came all over Alex and myself. Both of us are going to have to change our entire outfits for the party.

"You called me Papi," I whisper, laughing.

Alex groans and rests his head on my shoulder. "Shhh, don't ruin the moment."

"I love you," I mumble, not really thinking about the words.

Alex whips his head up and looks at me.

"I mean, I, uh, Alex, I uh." I'm a stuttering mess. I do love him and I don't want to say that I don't but I also don't want to make him uncomfortable.

He cuts me off by kissing me though. "Say it again."

"I love you, I love you, I love you." I keep repeating it between kisses.

"I love you too," he says. "I love you too, John Laurens."

We keep kissing, both of us just repeating those words. It's like we can't get enough on saying it, of hearing it. And I don't mind that. I don't mind the way he feels against me. I don't mind the fact that neither of us has cleaned up. I don't mind at all. I just like being close to Alex.

"Hey, doll face?" I say as him and I both change a little later.

"Yes?" He replies, smiling.

I turn and look at his underwear-clad body. It makes my cheeks burn. "What time is this party tonight?"

"Tom said that people should start showing up around seven, so that gives us about two hours to kill," Alex informs me.

"I should probably study then, you know, with finals and everything," I point out, laughing as I slip on an 'I stand with immigrants' tee shirt and some jeans.

Alex looks over and laughs. "You do a lot more than stand with immigrants."

"Damn right I do," I say, laughing. Both him and I get settled at our desks and begin to study and take notes. Alex has his headphones in and is mumbling lyrics while he works. It's nice background noise for me since working in total silence has never helped but music is always too distracting. Alex's little mumbles are just right. Since I'm only learning about things I like in college, it's a lot easier to focus and study than it was in high school. So, I'm happy to memorize how many bones the sea turtle has and how many bones the tortoise has, then research and write about the differences in the structure and why those differences are there.

"Come on baby, it's time to go." Alex's voice breaks me from my focus. I snap my head up and look over at him. He has on a pair of tight black jeans and my long sleeve maroon tee shirt I got at a tattoo parlor when my older cousin was getting his tattoo.

"You look good," I say, grabbing my jacket since I know it's cold out.

Alex smiles, slipping on his jacket, as well as a hat. "Yeah, I know."

"Is anyone we know going to this party?" I ask, walking down the hall with him, hand in hand. His hands are calloused and rough, but it's nice.

Alex shrugs. "Jefferson and Madison, Laf and Herc, maybe Burr and Theo but I don't know. I don't think so because Burr was talking about an anniversary but maybe that's another night. But my two favorite immigrants are gonna be there."

"Imported goods," I mumble.

"Damn right we are imported goods. Do you think a purebred American could have an ass like this? Absolutely not," Alex rambles.

"You are too cute," I laugh.

Alex sighs happily and leans against me. By the time we walk to Tom's frat house, the party is booming. Alex squeezes my hand and we walk inside. I'm going to try not to drink tonight, just because I might make a few bad decisions, so I instantly find a ginger ale and open it, taking a sip. Alex gets a ginger ale and we walk around, sipping our drinks until we find Laf and Herc sitting on the couch talking to Madison. I pull Alex over and we sit down with them.

"What's up fellow imported goods?" Alex says, stealing my words from earlier.

"Not much, Alex," James laughs. He's sitting on the floor in front of the low to the ground couch. Just like always, he's wearing a black hoodie and some black jeans. He has his inhaler in his hand and is holding it close to his chest like he's afraid of losing it.

"Where's Thomas? Couldn't make it?" I ask.

James shakes his head. "No, he's here. He's just getting his fourth drink and my fourth soda. Just a warning, he gets kinda, like, Trump-ish when he's drunk. I'm just apologizing for him prior to the shit show that might go down."

"Oof, okay," Herc mumbles. He and Laf are cuddled up almost on top of each other on the couch. Herc is just wearing a black beanie and a long olive green sweater, as well as some ripped up dark blue jeans and grey sneakers. Leave it to Herc to be the best dressed here. Laf, on the other hand, is wearing a pair of tight high waisted mom jeans with fishnets under them, as well as a white tee shirt and a red flannel. He looks good.

"Hey! New ones!" Thomas says, sitting down next to James on the floor. His hair is a little messy and he does look a bit drunk, but not totally out of it. His bright purple tee shirt blends nicely with his blue jeans. He and James look like total opposites.

"Hey, Thomas," Alex says.

Suddenly, a certain tall blonde man walks up. "Alex! Hey, I'm glad you made it."

"Wow, you are really fucking white. Alex, this man is super white. Why are we talking to him?" Thomas asks.

I laugh. "Thomas, oh my god."

Laf is laughing into Herc. "I'm fucking crying, Thomas Jesus Christ."

"Ignore them," Alex sighs, rolling his eyes. "Nice party. The music is shit though."

Tom raises an eyebrow. "Well, come and find some better music with me?"

"If it means I don't have to listen to this bullshit white boy mumble rap anymore then I will most definitely come with you. I have a playlist on Spotify that would be perfect for this party," Alex says, standing up and walking away with Tom.

"Yikes, I'm gonna go out on a ledge and say mister white boy is into your boy, John. Like, super into your boy," Thomas says.

"Yeah, he is, but Alex is into me," I state.

Laf raises his eyebrow. "You're awfully cocky."

"Alex and I said the L-word for the first time today. So yeah, I'm feeling pretty confident," I tell them, feeling pride rise in my chest.

Herc takes a sip of his drink. "Yeah, you also got him to moan out 'papi' so if I were you I'd be feeling pretty cocky as well."

"Oh, Papi! Fuck! Yes!" Laf moans obnoxiously loud while Herc, James, and Thomas laugh at me.

"If you're trying to embarrass me, it's not working," I smirk.

"Okay John, not to alarm you but either you boyfriend is stupid or doesn't like you that much because..." Thomas points behind me.

I turn to see Alex leaning against a table scrolling through his phone while Tom stands behind him closely, one of his hands on Alex's waist. I sigh and turn back though. "He's just stupid. Alex isn't good at identifying flirting."

"John, I'm not even dating Alex and I feel jealous. Go claim your man," Herc says.

I roll my eyes. "Alex is an adult. He knows when it's too far."

"That's like, high-level trust right there," Laf points out.

I nod. "I have no reason not to trust Alex."

"Okay if you're not gonna do anything then I am because John are you seeing this?" Herc says.

I turn to see Alex leaning against a wall while Tom stands almost directly in front of them. The two of them are talking. Alex, of course, looks very casual and not at all like they're flirting, but Tom, on the other hand, has so much lust in his eyes that I can see it from all the way across the room. I recognize the music playing as the music Alex really likes.

"They're just, just talking," I say, hoping that's the only intention Alex has. But how clueless is the boy? Can he really not see Tom's intention?

"Still, you should, I dunno, go over?" Laf says.

"Yeah, John, this dude obviously hasn't gotten any message that you and Alex are a..." James trails off and we all watch Tom lean in closer to a still cluelessly talking Alex. My eyes widen but I can't look away. Tom is closer, and their lips are almost touching when it seems that Alex snaps out of whatever he's talking around and pushes Tom away. Alex is yelling and gestures over to me. Tom says something back and then Alex storms over to me.

"I'll fucking show him what me being all over someone is like," he mumbles, climbing onto my lap. Suddenly, Alex and I are kissing. I smile against his lips and grab his ass. I knew I could trust him. I knew I didn't have to make a big scene, I knew he loved me. Ha, fuck you, Tom. He was given a chance to choose between Tom and me, and Alex chose me.

"I love you," I mumble when Alex pulls away.

"So maybe you were right," he sighs. "Tom was flirting."

I smile. "Doesn't matter what Tom was doing. Only what you did."

Alex presses his forehead against mine. "I love you too."

Suddenly, Herc wolf whistles. "Damn Alex, get some."

Alex adjusts himself so he's sitting with his legs across my lap. "Oh my god, Herc, way to ruin a moment."

Later into the night, the people who are drinking have gotten progressively drunker, and it was all good until James' prediction of Thomas' drunk actions came true and Thomas started talking about immigrants. Poorly. At first, we could ignore him and change the subject, but he kept talking about it, even when we politely asked him not to. So, of course, Alex finally gave up with trying to ignore him and started arguing.

"Jefferson you can say this kind of stuff about people you know nothing about," Alex snaps. "It's not fair."

"How's it not fair?" Thomas slurs.

"Because you are placing a generalization on an entire community. I was twelve when I immigrated here, was I smuggling drugs? Was I raping people?" Alex says. Surprisingly, he's kinda keeping it together.

"I don't know, were you?" Thomas asks.

Alex sighs. "Both Laf and I immigrants, you realize when you say, immigrants, you are talking about us too?"

"Yeah, and?" Jefferson spits. He's very very drunk. But that doesn't excuse his actions. He's been talking bullshit all night and someone needs to stand up to him.

"Shut up! Just, shut up!"

We're all surprised when James is the one who snaps. He looks pissed at this point. Thomas looks surprised when this tiny little man starts yelling at him.

"Thomas this is bullshit!" James continues. "I don't want to be with you if every other conversation is about how you dislike immigration!" James' accent is different. It's not his normal American accent, it's slipped into an African accent.

"Why do you even care?" Thomas spits.

James stands up so he towers over Thomas. "I am an illegal immigrant! That's right! I'm not even legal! I didn't fucking come from Wisconsin, I came from Sudan! I care so much because I am a fucking immigrant, Thomas!"

Thomas is quiet. His eyes are wide. I don't think anyone has ever heard James yell, or talk that much, or really even curse. James even looks a little surprised at his actions. I didn't know James was illegal, and from the look of surprise on Alex's face, I don't think he did either. No one moves for a few more seconds, then Alex stands up, as well as Laf.

"These are the people you let into your life, Thomas. We are immigrants. We have every right to be here," Laf says. Then they leave. Herc and I make eye contact and then get up to follow them, leaving Thomas alone. When we get outside, James is taking a hit off of his inhaler. Tears are in his eyes. Alex and Laf have their arms around him and are holding him close to them. They really are the imported goods squad.

"It's not fucking fair," James mumbles. "He was the only one who took me in, who cared about me. He was my only friend."

"Maybe he'll change, amour. I know he was trying," Laf says slowly.

James laughs bitterly. "Ha, he's not even going to want to talk to me anymore."

"You don't know that," Alex says.

James sighs. "Thanks, guys. Look, I gotta find a hotel or something tonight. So, I should go. Thank you."

"No you're staying with us," Laf says.

James rolls his eyes. "It's fine, really."

Alex shakes his head. "No, no, the imported goods squad plus Herc and John are going to have a giant sleepover and we're going to share immigrant stories and eat all the chips Laf and Herc have."

"We have so many chips," Laf says.

James laughs. "That, that sounds really nice right now."

"Come on, welcome to this messy friend group. You are officially under the protection of the Schuyler sisters and Hercules and John," Alex says.

"You guys are cool, I don't know why Thomas talked so much shit about you guys," James says. "I'm sorry about that, by the way. I never really knew what to do in those situations."

I shake my head. "Don't apologize for his actions."

James smiles and we all make our way back to Herc and Laf's dorm. Alex grabs some pajamas for James, himself and I. I'm surprised to see Alex wearing a tee shirt around other people. The scars on his arms are barely even there, and I know no one is going to bring it up. Alex has gotten a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie for James, black like James' usual fashion choices. For me, he got some Adidas joggers and my gay cowboy tank top.

"I have weed if anyone wants it," Herc calls out.

"I'll take some," I call out.

James and Alex shake their heads but Laf nods and starts smoking with me. Herc is taking hits off of Laf but that's it. I know Laf and I aren't going to get obnoxiously high, just enough to get the edge off.

"Okay, so where'd you come from?" Alex asks James.

James shrugs. "I was born somewhere and my mom and I moved around a lot. The last place I remember being in Sudan. It was really fucking hot there. Then we hid away on a barge and came to Virginia. Well, technically the barge landed in Georgia but we decided not to stay since that might have been a bit suspicious. My mom got a green card marriage but technically, I could be deported."

"Nah homie, I'll marry you so you won't get deported," I say.

"Aren't you and Alex fucking?" James says, raising his eyebrows.

Alex scoffs. "I would for sure let him marry you if it meant you didn't get deported."

James smiles and rolls his eyes as he grabs a handful of Doritos. "You guys are weird. Laf, where did you come from?"

Laf rolls his eyes. "It's embarrassing."

"How?" I ask.

"Because I'm sort of names after it. I come from Chavaniac-Lafayette, France," Laf tells us. "I don't know if my last name and the name of my birthplace have any correlation, but my aunt, who I lived with and liked, used to joke that I was the king and no one knew."

"Okay okay, what's the closest any of you have come to being deported?" Alex asks.

Laf lights up. "Oh! My first Christmas in America I was living with Herc, and this was when I was like, seventeen. Anyway, so I was at Herc's house because that's where I was living. Herc was already in college and I was gonna go the next year so he was already out to his family and stuff, so they were chill with me staying and stuff. Okay so I'm at Herc's, and like, I'm just talking to his mom in English and she's helping me with words and stuff, and suddenly there's like, police in the house. And now, I'm a twink gay who's scared of everything so of course they cuff me and I'm crying. I had absolutely no idea what I did but basically, Herc had to bring a bunch of papers down to the station to prove I was a legal citizen and stuff like that."

"Hey!" Alex starts. "Mine was like that too. I was in eighth grade and like, basically I got pulled into the office and interrogated for hours until John's mom got me the papers I needed and John basically fought his way into the room where I was to prove I was legal."

James laughs. "Uh, well, the thing is, I've never really gotten close to being deported, but like, I changed my name to make myself seem more American. I mean, I'm from Sudan, you really think my real name is James Madison?"

"What is your real name? If you don't mind me asking," I say.

James shrugs. "It's Jabalah Madaki. I kept my same initials, J and M. But now that you guys know, you can't tell anyone. Just, keep calling me James. It took me long enough to get used to that name, I don't want to get used to Jabalah again. Okay?"

We all nod.

"John?" James asks. "How did you react when you found out Alex was an immigrant?"

I think back to when Alex told me about where he came from. "Well, it was the summer before seventh grade, and we were just sort of talking, and he told me that he wasn't born in America and that he was an immigrant. So, I told him that I wanted to go see his hometown because he talked highly of it. So he said that we could one day, and then he asked me if I had ever masturbated."

"Why the fuck did he ask you that?" Laf says loudly.

Alex shrugs. "I was just wondering. And I didn't say masturbate, I said jerk off. I wasn't that mature when I was a kid."

"Okay, wait, what's the timeline with the whole Laf-Herc-James-Thomas thing?" I ask. "Because like, what."

Laf sighs. "Okay, so Thomas and I dated and fucked when I was sixteen, him and James were seventeen, and Herc was eighteen. Thomas and I were still technically together when he went back to America but that just consisted of booty pics and dick pics. In this year Thomas and James also got together, so Thomas was cheating on me technically even though we weren't even sending pics at that point, just memes. When I was seventeen and Herc was nineteen and Thomas and James were eighteen, Herc and I got together, and I cheated on Thomas. Finally, a few months before I turn eighteen, Thomas and I officially break it off, I move to New York, and Herc and I move in together."

"Wow, you and Herc, like, really fell in love," James comments.

Laf nods. "We first met when I was working for a clothing store and Herc walked up and put like, a hundred pairs of women's underwear, ranging from thongs to like, high waisted underwear. All plain and what not. So he told me that it was not for anything weird, so I wrote my number on the receipt and told him to tell me how not weird it was. So, Herc invited me to one of his fashion shows he was putting together with a few of his friends. He needed to underwear for the models because apparently, he wasn't going to risk them bringing the wrong kind. So, like, after his show we both just walked the streets of France for a while and talked. Then we both got kinda drunk and fell asleep at his apartment. He was there for a couple of months so we spent a lot of time together, and we just, kinda, fell in love. And after he left, we Facetimed every chance we got, and then, I moved to New York with him."

"Wait, so you weren't like, worried you guys were gonna break up?" I ask.

Herc shakes his head. "We loved each other. We still do. People say that your love for someone fades as you guys move on with your lives but like, Laf and I have been together for about two years now, and like, I feel the same way I did when we first fell in love. I wouldn't want to trade him for anything in the world."

Suddenly, Alex gasps. "Herc! Did adult you fuck child Laf?"

Herc groans. "Okay so, first of all, he was seventeen and I was nineteen so don't make me sound like a pedophile. Secondly, the fucker told me he was nineteen too so in my defense I thought it was legal."

"I only said I was nineteen because I didn't want Herc to think I was just some lame kid," Laf whines.

"You guys are fucking weird," James says.

Herc smiles and nods. "Just how we like ourselves."

Suddenly, James' phone rings. He rolls his eyes and picks it up. "What?" A pause. "I'm at a friend's place." More silence. "Thomas I really don't want to talk to you tomorrow. You won't even remember anything in the morning." James sighs. "Why did you write it down? You know what? I don't care. Look, go to sleep. We can talk later. Goodbye Thomas."

"What did he say?" Alex asks.

James groans. "He apologized and stuff, but it wasn't really sincere since he's drunk. He asked where I was, you know, nothing really special."

"Are you going to be okay talking to him alone or would you like some backup?" Alex asks James, placing his on on James' shoulder.

"That might, that actually might be really nice," James says.

"Then you will have the imported goods backing you up Jemmy James," Laf says.

James rolls his eyes back into his skull. "Please never ever call me that again ever."


	19. Immigrants, they get the fucking job done which is why they don't deserve to be fucking locked in cages and separated from their children and murdered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title: The author is pissed off because pro-lifers will literally protest woman and trans people's health care but when a seven-year-old girl dies in customs, they say nothing
> 
> Another alternate title: Fuck Trump

/Alex/

I wake up to someone's phone ringing. Usually, I could just tune it out, but the fact that the ringtone is just a mass amount of moaning and mumble rap, I had to sit up and see who would put that as their ringtone. It takes a second, but eventually, James sits up and puts his phone to his ear, ending the ring.

"Thomas, what?" He groans. Silence. "Yes, I just woke up." James groans. "You were talking shit about immigrants nonstop so I yelled it at you." More silence and James drops his head. "Gee, Thomas, I have no idea why I wouldn't tell you." An amount of time passes and James sighs. "I will come to our apartment at noon. I will be accompanied by Laf and Alex." More silence. "Yes, it is necessary for them to come." James laughs. "Why? Because you hate immigrants, you're six foot two, and you're buff. I am an illegal immigrant who barely weighs one hundred and five pounds and doesn't even reach five foot five." A bit more silence. "Goodbye. I'll see you then."

"What time is it?" I ask groggily.

James looks down. "Five am. I'm probably gonna crash again since we all fell asleep around midnight. What about you?"

I let out a long sigh. "I want to crash, but finals are coming up. I gotta study."

James groans and flops back down. "Yuck."

I laugh and stand up, getting ready to head to my dorm. "When the rest of them wake up, just text me, dude. Yeah?"

James nods, rolling over. "Mkay, Hamilton. Have fun."

"You too, kiddo," I laugh.

"I'm older than you," James mumbles before I leave. I make my way over to my dorm and begin studying, writing things down, repeating things. Washington had talked to me at the end of class on Friday, begging me to make sure I take care of myself and not overwork myself. I told him that he obviously did not know who I was. So, here I am, listening to the coffee brew and reading over and memorizing laws. Finally, around nine, James texts me and tells me that John has awoken from his beauty sleep, so I close my book and walk back over to Laf's dorm with a mug of coffee for John.

"Morning beautiful," I say, staring at his wild curly hair. John always looks the cutest in the morning. His hair sticks up everywhere, and I mean everywhere. He looks like a lion. Then he lets out the cutest little yawn and his voice is all croaky and cute. What is not cute is the popping session he does. He starts out cracking his neck and, then his back, then his hands, and finally his hips and knees.

"Morning Alex," he mumbles, reaching out like a child for the coffee.

I smile and sit down next to John, brushing some of his wild curly hair from his face so I can see it better. "You can have your coffee for a kiss."

John leans in and kisses me. "Now can I have my coffee?"

I nod and hand it to him. "How'd you sleep?"

John shrugs and takes a sip of the dark liquid, then makes a face at the fact that it is plain and black. "As well as I could on the floor. I got really lonely after five am though, I don't know why."

I roll my eyes. "Well, I'm here now."

Laf clears his throat. "Bonjour, Hamilton. We will accompany James to his apartment-"

"Around noon, I know," I finish for Laf.

"Thanks, guys," James mumbles shyly. He looks nervous and scared. I know how it feels to be scared to confront someone, I'm not going to make James do this alone.

I smile. "Of course. We gotta stick up for our fellow immigrants."

"Ugh, you guys talk too loud," Herc groans. He is the last one to wake up always. Herc has explained many times that he needs a minimum of ten hours of sleep, and since his first class is at eight, Herc goes to bed at nine every night, as well as Laf.

"Well, I, for one, could kill for a frappe right now. We should all go out and get coffee, yeah?" John suggests, sipping his black coffee.

"James, I can lend you some clothes," I chime.

James shakes his head and shrugs. "I'll just wear what I had on last night."

It's a bit frightening to see James change. I always believe in body positivity, but the guy is just bone. I know he's trying to gain weight, and I'm glad because I can see all the bones in his chest, his spine and shoulder blades, all of his ribs. It makes me sad.

"Hey, let's get some food too," I suggest.

James nods. "Fuck, I'm hungry. I don't think I ate yesterday."

"You gotta eat baby boy! You're too skinny," Herc says.

James nods. "I'm trying."

"And we will support you and make sure you have people behind you, helping you," John tells James softly, placing his hand on James' shoulder. "I did it with that nonstop workaholic over there, so I'll always be happy to help you."

James smiles. "Come on, let's go get some breakfast."

We find a nearby coffee shop and sit down. All of us are bundled up tightly due to the cold New York morning, so sitting in the warm coffee shop is nice. We all sit at a booth, Laf, James, and I on one side while Herc and John sit on the other. The coffee shop is nice and comforting. Soon, a waitress comes over to take our order.

"Okay, I'll have a plain bagel with butter and a large caramel frappe with three shots, two pumps of vanilla, one pump of chocolate, extra whipped cream, and a sprinkle of cinnamon," John starts off, knowing my order by heart.

"Boo, you white whore," I hoot. "I'll have a medium roast black coffee, large."

"Oh, thank god, if all the orders are like that first one I'm gonna scream," the waitress laughs, winking at me.

"Oh honey," Laf says. "I'll have a tall skinny soy latte with, extra cream, two pumps of sugar free vanilla, four pumps of sugar free peppermint, mixed with cinnamon and then caramel drizzle on the top, oh and three shots please, and if you have any sugar free amaretto I'd like four pumps of that in there too."

"I hate my job," the waitress mumbles.

"Excuse my boyfriend," Herc says. "I'll have a Chai tea."

"Vanilla?" The waitress asks. Herc nods and then we all look to Madison.

"Um," he starts nervously. "I'll have a black coffee with room for cream, and then a sesame seed bagel with cream cheese."

"I'll have your orders out in a minute," the waitress says.

"Why do you two have to stress out the waitresses with your impossible coffee orders?" Herc asks out loud. "I mean, with all that stuff, is there even any room for coffee?"

"No, probably not," Laf says. "But growing up in France, I learned to like the finer things."

"Laf your coffee is probably sixty percent artificial flavor and chemicals," I deadpan.

"John ordered just as funky as I did, stop attacking me," the French man replies, throwing his hands up.

"Yeah, I did," John smirks. "Herc, tell us about your new design thing, I heard a little bit about it in art class but that was it."

Herc lights up. "Okay so we're designing dresses and recently I've gotten really into my African roots, so I was thinking, like, African chic sort of. Like the dresses are sleek and modern but they have tribal patterns from different places in Africa, and they're designed for different tribes, but like, modern, you know? I'm really bad at explaining this but later I'll show you my design book and it'll make a lot more sense."

"Wow, Herc, that sounds really cool," James says.

"Yeah, and like, I was thinking about designing a line of suits like this too. Like, African political leaders could wear these or just people who are looking to indulge in their roots," Herc goes on. "Oh, and also I've been doing a side project and it's for lingerie for men, stop laughing, but Laf always gets uncomfortable in the girls underwear because it doesn't fit right and the guys underwear is just way to masculine, so I was designing like, male lingerie that was feminine but comfortable, you know?" Herc is smiling.

"That's actually really cool," I compliment.

"And like, I kinda need some models because I want to do a photo shoot." Herc bites his lip and smiles pleadingly.

"Are you, wait." I stop, wondering if Herc is really asking us this.

"Yeah, sure, I'll do it," John says.

"And you know I already am," Laf smiles.

"Come on Alex," John begs. "Please?"

I shake my head. "No. I hate myself too much to walk around in underwear and let Herc take pictures. And like, I don't have the body for it."

"Bullshit Alex, the whole point of this line is to show that men of color, no matter their body type, race, or sexuality can wear feminine things and look and feel good," Herc explains.

I shake my head. "Still hate myself."

"It pays," Herc sings.

As much as I hate myself, I have been looking for a way to make a quick dollar. "I'm in."

I can tell James is nervous as he, Laf, and I approach the large apartment building. He's fidgeting with his hands and has taken four hits off of his inhaler in the past fifteen minutes. I wish I could offer some words to reassure him but I really have no idea what's going to happen. But, just in case, I'm getting myself a little pumped up for a fight. Sure, Jefferson is half a foot taller than me and probably stronger, but I'm fast and I don't like him very much so as long as I stay focused I'll be fine.

"Okay, guys, just, before we go in, thank you, and I'm sorry," James says, pulling a key out of his pocket.

He opens the door and it hits us. The smell of food. Bacon, melted cheese, chicken, and more smells than I can identify. It makes my stomach growl and my mouth water as we walk in. It smells the way it did when John's grandma would cook at the family reunions. I almost forget why I'm here because at this point, I would like nothing more than to sit down and eat something that smells the way this apartment does right now.

"He stress cooks," James clarifies.

Laf chuckles. "I stress eat. I would kill for his problem."

"Thomas?" James calls out.

"Oh! Fuck! Shit sorry, give me one second I gotta turn off the stove and make sure no fires will start," I hear Thomas reply. James escorts Laf and me to a couch and we all sit down. Finally, Thomas comes out. He looks a bit of a mess, which is weird to see. He never looks messy, always primped and primed, dressed like fake royalty.

"Thomas," James calmly starts. "Sit."

"Hi." Thomas looks nervous and anxious and scared and sad. Which is really something Thomas never looks like. A large magenta puffball? Yes, often. Scared? Never. "When, when were you going to tell me?"

"In all honesty, I wasn't," James states bluntly.

"I can't believe you kept this from me." Thomas almost looks hurt.

"Well, I mean, you do never shut up about how you hate immigrants," I mumble.

Thomas sighs. "James, I didn't know you were, I just, god."

James rolls his eyes. "You practically attacked Alexander for being a legal immigrant. I don't even have a right to live here. I hid in a boat for two weeks to get here. So yeah, I was a bit hesitant to tell you."

Thomas runs his hand over his face. "Where did you come from?"

"Sudan." James' answer is short, setting a prominent line in the sand.

"I'm guessing those two knew before I did?" Thomas points at Laf and me.

James nods. "Immigrants stick together."

"Don't call yourself a-"

James cuts Thomas off. "Don't call myself a what? An immigrant? What's the matter? Can't stand the idea of your little Jemmy being an immigrant?"

Thomas sighs. "I'm sorry."

James is quiet for a moment, then he speaks. "For what?"

"For everything. For how I spoke about immigrants. God, I can't imagine how much that hurt." Thomas puts his face in his hands. "And you, god, Jesus you felt like you had to lie to me and I never wanted to make you feel like that. I know, I just, I fucked up. I fucked up for so long. I hurt you, I made you feel like shit. I'm sorry."

James is quiet, then he sighs. "You can't talk about immigrants like that anymore, Thomas. You just can't. I'm sick of it and so is everyone else. I love you Thomas, but I've sat quietly for far too long. I'm done apologizing for your actions."

Thomas nods and looks to Laf and I. "Can James and I be alone now or am I still a danger?"

"That's not up for us to decide," I say.

"It's okay, you guys can go," James states quietly.

I place my hand on his shoulder and stand up. "Hey, call me if anything happens."

James nods and Laf and I stand up to leave. At first, out walk is quiet, only the sound of our shoes crunching against the snow to full the cold air, and it's nice. Laf and I can always hang out and just be okay with just being there. But when we do fall into conversation, it's hard to get us to stop.

"Do you want a tattoo?" Laf asks in French.

I cock my head, ready to reply in French too. "Why do you ask?"

Laf shrugs. "Maybe we should all get tattoos."

I chuckle. "That's an absolutely terrible idea. I'm in."

"Now, both of us are in law together. John and Herc are not in law. So, obviously, we must team up and use our lawyer skills to get them to be on board with the tattoo, am I correct?" Laf is still talking in French, as am I.

I nod. "I think it will be easy to convince them. I mean, Herc would look great with a tattoo and I know John is super into art, so maybe I could get him to design my tattoo."

"What would you want?" Laf asks.

I sigh. "A unicorn."

"A unicorn?" Laf is laughing. "My friend, you realize it's permanent, right?"

I scoff. "Not like a sissy unicorn, but like, a really badass one. You know?"

He shakes his head. "No, I don't know. I have no fucking idea what you mean by a badass unicorn Alex."

I groan. "John can draw it really well. He'll show you."

Lafayette laughs. "Okay, a badass unicorn."

"What are you gonna get?" I ask Laf. At this point we're not even headed to our dorm anymore, we're just walking around campus.

"Herc and I would probably get something matching. Or maybe I would like, The Beast Of Gévaudan. When I was a kid I wanted to go out and fight it but now, for me at least, it more represents a battle between me and my inner demons. Like, I'm fighting the beast inside so I don't get eaten up entirely," Laf explains.

"What do you mean, the beast inside?" I ask.

He shrugs. "I don't know. Like, things I struggle with. I've always been a huge perfectionist when it comes to myself. Like, I don't want to be fat, or out of shape, or even pudgy. I have a very specific ten-pound range that I need to stay in. Like, no less than one hundred and fifty pounds and no more than one hundred and sixty. And as a kid, I really struggled with that. I struggled with eating a lot. Like, I wouldn't do it for days at a time and I would mean to. Herc and I met when I was in a very dark place. I was very underweight, but Herc like, he just never gave up. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that The Beast Of Gévaudan represents my battles, the battles I have lost and won. And, I want to remember that."

I nod. "I'm sorry you had to go through so much, Laf."

He sighs and smiles. "It got me exactly where I needed to be though."

I smile. "I'm glad you're here."

Lafayette nods and smiles. "I'm glad I am too."


	20. Happy Finals Everyone Is Horny And Tired But Mostly Tired

Alex

Finals. Fucking finals. It's day two of this five-day hellhole, and then we're on break. So, obviously, I haven't slept yet. I'm taking every moment I can to study. I have to work, I have to. I can't fail. Tomorrow I have finals in Washington's class and I'm nervous as fuck. I still have memorized details from a controversial case back in 1943 and I don't know if that's going to be on the final or not but knowing my luck it probably is so I need to study it. I just, I have to stay focused.

"Alex, you've been looking at that book for the past six hours and I know you didn't sleep last night. Come to bed," John whispers softly, gently hugging me from behind.

I wave my hand, dismissing him. "John, I can't stop right now. I just, I need to memorize this. I need to know this."

"Take a break, C'mon, we can eat some cold pizza and unwind before we sleep," John says, sitting down and pulling an old pizza box from our floor. He sniffs the pizza, then shrugs and takes a bite.

"I'll be there in a minute, save my plate," I mumble, my eyes focused on the words.

"Alexander," John says, warning in his voice.

I groan and close my book, knowing I'll just wake up at four so I can study a bit before the test. "Okay, okay."

"Good boy, say ah," Jon commands as I sit down. He holds out a slice of pizza.

"John, that's from two days ago," I state bluntly, peeling my shirt from my body.

"Alex, I'm poor, you're poor, do we really have the privilege to not eat this pizza?" John takes another bite of his slice. "It doesn't even taste that bad."

"God, I really should be studying. I can't, I need to-"

I'm cut off by John. "Alex, you're stressed. Lie back, let me help."

"I don't know how you're planning to-" I gasp as John begins to palm me through my sweatpants. "John!"

"Shhh, baby, just lay back and relax, let me do all the work," he whispers in my ear.

I lie back and moan as John begins to bite my neck. His hand is still rubbing my ever growing erection, leaving me a mess. Any thoughts on studying for finals leave my mind, especially when John begins kissing down my chest. A deep and startling groan escapes my chest when he mouths the outline of my dick.

"Ha, you're so helpless," John teases.

"Ah, fuck, I am, fuck, John," I mumble. My Carribean accent rears its head and any sign that I had been living in America for six years disappears.

John carefully pulls my sweatpants down, exposing me. He doesn't waste a second, putting me in his mouth and beginning to make me feel good. I hook my legs over his shoulders and moan, running my hands through his hair.

"Oi, Papi, oh dios, ci!" I slip back into Spanish, which was the language I learned before anything else. My mother taught me French, and I learned English on my own. "Ci! Ah!"

John is chuckling as I grind my hips into his mouth. For someone who has never sucked dick, he's really not that bad at all. What confuses me though is when he pulls away from my dick for a second to stick his finger in his mouth, getting it nice and wet, then goes back to sucking me. I'm about to ask why he did what he just did, but then I feel it. Holy fuck, John is fingering me.

"Oh! Fuck! Fuck John! Please!" I don't know what I'm begging for but it just feels right. "Joder! Dios mio, se siente tan bien, Papi!"

John takes this as a good sign and quickens the pace of his finger, as well as the pace of his mouth. A very familiar knot builds up in my stomach and I push John's head lower onto my dick. Suddenly, I can feel myself coming down his throat. John keeps sucking and fingering me, letting me ride out my high until finally I'm done.

"Wow," I mumble lightly, closing my eyes. John lies down next to me and hugs me close to him. I happily cuddle up and place a gentle kiss on his shoulder. "Where did you learn to do that?" I ask out loud.

John chuckles. "I asked Herc."

"Wait, so he probably knows you sucked my dick?" I ask, a bit weary.

John laughs. "Baby, this whole floor probably knows I sucked your dick. You're not very quiet, you know."

"Shut up!" I mumble, my cheeks burning.

"Okay okay," John chuckles. "It's bedtime now. Sleep, my sweet boy. I promise you won't fail your final."

And those words lull me into a deep sleep.

For about five hours.

So, when my alarm goes off at four am, I feel exhausted. I almost want to give up and sleep an extra hour, but I don't. Instead, I push myself out of my warm bed, out of John's arms, and onto the floor. I make my way to the shower and take a cold one, which does wake me up. I get dressed in some sweatpants and a hoodie and then start brewing the coffee. John is still sleeping like a rock, so I go into the bathroom and close the door. I have all my books, plus my thermos of coffee, and I need to work in a light room, so if that means sitting on the floor and mumbling the names of people who made laws, and the names of supreme court justices to myself, then that's what it means. I must lose track of time though because I'm pulled out of my thoughts but the door opening.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Alex, it's six am. How long have you been awake?" John mumbles tiredly, going over to the toilet to pee.

"Two hours," I reply, standing up and deciding I should probably get ready.

"Baby, please have some breakfast," John tells me as he flushes and goes to brush his teeth. "You didn't eat dinner last night."

"Okay, okay. I'll make some ramen really quick. Happy?" I say, kissing his cheek gently before I walk out of the bathroom.

"Yes," John replies. "I love you, baby."

"Love you too," I tell him. I change out of my sweatpants and hoodie and into a pair of jeans and a different hoodie. I pack up all my stuff and make some ramen, then wait for John to be ready. I'm already on my fourth cup of coffee, which means around five thirty I had to brew another pot. John is moving a bit slower because he didn't get enough sleep. Usually, the less sleep I get the more awake I feel. Like, I once slept for nine hours, which is what John usually likes, and I was so groggy I could barely do anything that day. When John gets nine hours he can do anything. Seriously, I never see him more motivated than when he gets a full nine hours. One time, he got nine hours of sleep and deep cleaned the entire dorm. It was wild.

"Alex, I'm sleepy," John complains, slipping on a tee shirt.

"I know baby, drink your coffee, it'll be okay. What testing do you have today?" I ask, slurping my noodles.

John shrugs. "Biology. I'm good at that though, so I'm not worried. What about you?"

"Law," I state. "I'm terrified. I still don't know the supreme court justice from 1987 and that's stressing me out like hell."

"Why would you need to know that?" John asks as he packs up his stuff.

"I don't know! What if it's on the final though? Oh my god, I'm so nervous," I state, worriedly eating my noodles.

"Alex, baby, deep breathes." John sits in front of me and takes the noodles from me, placing them on a nightstand. "Breathe in, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and hold, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and exhale, one, two, three, four, five. You're going to do awesome. You know everything about law, you are not going to fail, I promise."

"I'm sorry, I'm just, I'm stressed," I mumble.

John hugs me. "I know. I know finals week is always difficult for you. But I'm right here. If you ever feel overwhelmed just tell me and I'll talk you down a bit, okay?"

I nod and sigh. "I love you."

"I love you too." John kisses my forehead and then holds my face in his hands. "Now, c'mon. I'll walk you to your class instead of vise versa."

I nod. "Okay."

We slip on our jackets and shoes and then walk out into the cold New York morning. It's cold, so we find ourselves holding hands in John's pocket. We're quiet, but it's nice. I don't want to be anywhere else but where I am. I love the way John looks. The way his hair catches all the little snowflakes, the way his nose turns pink, the way he gets snowflakes on his eyelashes and how they fall onto his cheeks when he blinks.

"You're so pretty," I mumble, leaning against him as we enter the large building.

"As are you, my dearest," John says, smiling. We make our way to my class, but John stops me in the doorway. He loops his arm around my waist and pulls me against him. For a second, I don't know what he's going to do, but then he places his hand on my cheek and kisses me. I smile, kissing back.

"I love you," I mumble.

"I love you too, good luck," John replies. He pecks my lips one more time and then goes off to his next class.

"Damn, Alex! Get some!" Angelica yells.

"Ci, Papi!" Laf moans.

"Suck his dick!" Aaron hoots.

"Please use protection," Washington suggests.

"Oi!" I say, "I'm not gonna let my boyfriend walk me to class if y'all are just gonna butt into my sex life. And Laf! Shut up!"

"Wait, what did Laf do?" Angelica says. "He just moaned yes daddy in Spanish, but, hold on, he doesn't know Spanish. Wait, and his dorm is across from-" Angelica gasps.

"For about ten minutes that's all I could hear," Laf complains.

Blood flows through my cheeks. "Laf! Please do not open your mouth."

"Okay, okay, enough about Alex's sex life," Washington says. "Today we are taking finals. Now I know some of you may be running off of a pot of coffee and pure determination instead of sleep and food like a normal person, but please, relax. If we didn't go over it in class, it's not on the test. I promise."

"You mean I memorized every supreme court justice from 1900 to now for nothing?" I exclaim. "Fuck!"

"Alex, are you okay?" Laf whispers quietly, placing his hand on my arm. He looks genuinely concerned.

"Yes, Laf, I am wonderful, why do you ask?" I deadpan.

"Okay, well, at the end of next semester I'm going to make sure everyone knows this beforehand so no one has to go through that. Now, take all the time you want, remember, you have four hours. Once you finish, you can place your test on my desk and you can leave." Washington begins passing out the tests. The moment I get mine, I read it over, then start. The test is, easy? I know this information. I know way too much about this information. Not only do I know what this law is for, but I know who wrote it, the year it was passed, and the people who supported it. So, I find myself breezing through the test, which is something I didn't expect. I thought it was going to be incredibly difficult, but it was more, moderate.

"Done? Already?" Washington asks quietly as I walk up to his desk. It's only been two hours, and no one else has really finished. Aaron is getting closer, and so are a few others, but I'm the first to be done.

"It was, well, it wasn't hard. I knew the answers," I mumble, placing the packet on his desk. "I don't know, if anything is wrong then I don't know."

Washington smiles. "You're very smart, Alex. But do your professor a favor?"

"Yes?" I reply, hoping he is going to give me work to do.

"Go back to your dorm, nap, eat something, and drink water. You need it," he tells me.

I nod, with no intent to sleep or eat or drink water, and then walk back to my dorm. I instantly pull out my book and begin studying for the next test, which is in twenty hours. It's for my statistics class, which is stressing me out even more since I'm struggling to remember some of the formulas. So, I pound a Redbull and bury my head in my statistics textbook. Right now John is taking his biology final. He's always been super good at that. Tomorrow he has oceanology, then he has art on Thursday, and then something else on Friday. I forget what though.

About an hour into our studying, I'm broken from my trance by my phone ringing. I look down to see John's number. I smile, and then silently pray that everything is okay as I press the accept button to his call.

"Alex, baby," John's voice says the moment I pick up. "We're going to hang out with a friend of mine."

"We are?" I say slowly, looking back at my textbook. "Who?"

"Her name is Nola Darling. Her and her boyfriend, sorry, lover Mars are looking for something to do and I told them I'd introduce you to them," John states. "And it is a fact that you have no more testing today. So come on, get your cute butt down here. I really think you'll like Nola, she has a very independent spirit."

"Okay, where are you guys?" I ask, closing my book.

"Over by where I punched Charles Lee," John tells me. "I'll see you soon. Love you baby girl."

"Love you too, Papi," I mumble, hanging up. I put on my jacket and hat and scarf and shoes and then walk out of my dorm. I find John talking to two people. The first one is a tall black woman. She has on some dark blue skinny jeans, as well as a black pea coat and a red beret. Her very very curly hair sticks out of the beret and her red lips seem to pop. She's leaning against a guy who looks a bit like John. He has on a thick denim jacket lined with wool, as well as some black joggers and a baseball cap. The jacket is unbuttoned, exposing a blue tee shirt and a gold chain attached to the very obvious gold letters saying 'Mars,' which I assume is the guy's name. He looks funny though, so I'm excited to meet them.

"Hey, baby!" John says as I walk up next to him. "How was testing?"

"Easier than I expected. Did you know they only test you on things they went over in class?" I say, my eyes wide.

John sighs and kisses my forehead. "No, baby, I did not."

"Hi, I'm Nola Darling," says the black girl, holding out her hand.

"Hey, it's nice to meet you. I'm Alexander Hamilton, but you can call me Alex." I shake Nola's hand happily.

"Aye yo, waddup homeboy, my name's Mars Blackmon." The guy, Mars, holds out his hand. He seems very relaxed and laid back, which is nice.

"Nice to meet you, Mars," I say, shaking his hand.

"So, I was thinking we could all go to this little bagel place nearby. It's a couple blocks down but only like, a ten-minute walk. And besides, not many tourists come down Broadway street in the middle of winter. It's just a bunch of business buildings and Trinity church, which has like, a couple political figures buried there, but that's it," Nola starts as we begin walking.

"So, how did you and John meet?" I ask Nola.

She smiles. "He's in my biology class. He and I sit next to each other a lot."

I nod. "That's cool."

"So, my mans, you two are dating?" Mars asks.

John chuckles and takes my hand in his. "Yes, we are."

"Man that's really sick," Mars says. "I been tryna get Nola to commit but she keeps telling me that the only person she needs is herself."

"Mars, baby, I would appreciate it if we could just spend an afternoon together," Nola says, sighing.

"Sorry mommy," Mars says.

"He calls her mommy?" I whisper to John.

John laughs. "It's just a joke between the two of them."

We spend the next hour hanging out and talking. Mars is really funny and was cracking me up, but by the time we get ready to go, my social battery is drained. Another thing that makes John and I two different people is the fact that I am more of an introvert, while John has many extroverted tendencies. But he usually knows when I'm about done, so he thankfully told Nola and Mars that we both needed to go home and relax. The walk back, which is just the two of us, is quiet and cold, which I don't mind. When we get back to the apartment, we both strip down to our tee shirts and boxers, then fall on John's bed, welcoming sleep happily.

 

I step out of my class on Friday. I had just finished testing, and school was out for Christmas break. In the past week, I have gotten a total of twenty hours of sleep, which about four hours a night. I have lost a drastic amount of weight due to my lack of focus on self-care, and it seems as if John and I have barely spoken, but we both have been overly busy. Finally, though, I'm stepping out of my last class to see John waiting for me. We both have acquired bags under our eyes, and both of us are just tired.

"I am so fucking tired," I mumble as I lean against him.

"You and me both," he replies as we walk to our dorm. "So we're headed out to my parent's house on Sunday, then after Christmas, we're coming back up and staying at Schuyler's house, how does that sound?"

"Mmf, okay. Sounds perfect. Can we please sleep when we get back?" I ask as we end our dorm building.

"Awh, what? I thought we were gonna go run a marathon and then deep clean the apartment," John comments sarcastically.

"Whatever you big lug, I know you're fucking tired too," I accuse as we get to our dorm.

"Ugh, I hate finals. We're out of coffee and Oreo's, and my dyslexia has gotten subtly worse the more sleep deprived I become," John mentions as he enters the room and grabs some pajamas.

"Shit, really? How did you do with testing?" I ask, concerned as I grab one of his sweaters and a clean pair of boxers.

John shrugs. "I just drank coffee and prayed I was doing it right. Math was the hardest but I explained what was going on to my professor and he basically he found an aid to take me into a different room and read the questions out loud for me. So that was nice."

"Mm, that's good," I tell him as I lie down.

He's quick to join me. "How was your week of testing?"

I shrug and close my eyes, letting him pull me close. "It was stressful. I don't think I did well on my statistics test, but who knows?"

John groans, his voice beginning to slur from exhaustion. "Well, you were doing well all semester, I don't see why you shouldn't have done well on your test."

"Ugh, maybe. I love you," I mumble.

I know John says 'I love you too' but it sounds like 'uh mmf ya tah.'

I stay awake a bit longer since it's always harder for me to wind down. I listen to John's breathing and heartbeat, and it relaxes me. So, soon enough I'm falling asleep again, finally feeling I'm allowed to relax after this chaotic week.

 

"See? I told you they weren't dead. Just sleeping," is what I wake up to. I feel groggy and stiff, and sunlight is blinding me. I sit up and open my eyes to see Laf and Herc standing over John and me.

"Mmf, what time is it?" I mumble.

"Noon," Herc tells me.

I think back to when John and I fell asleep after testing this morning, around ten. "Wow, two hours. I've never napped that long before."

Herc laughs. "It's the afternoon on Saturday. You've been asleep for twenty six hours, guys. Laf and I were beginning to get concerned.

"It's Saturday? Fuck! Grades are out!" I exclaim.

"Alex, what the fuck are we awake for?" John mumbles.

"John, babe, we've been asleep for twenty-six hours," I say, pulling my laptop out. "Grades are up."

John groans and rolls over, during his face in his pillow. "I don't even want to know. What were yours, baby?"

I sign into my email and click on the email from the school, then the link. I hold my breath as the page loads. It seems that everyone, even a very tired John, is kinda being held in suspense. The first part of the page that loads is my business grade.

"In business I got a ninety five," I state.

"Yay! You go, Alex!" John cheers.

"In statistics, I got a..." My heart drops. "I got an eighty-two."

"Wow, that's really good," Herc says, impressed.

"No, it's not. I could've, I should've studied more," I start. My voice is almost cracking.

"Hey, hey Alex," John whispers. "Hey baby, you did really good. I promise, your grade is just fine. I promise. Come on, let's see what else you got."

I nod and sigh, scrolling to my history class. "Ninety-seven."

"Jesus fucking Christ, I'd sell my soul to get a ninety-seven in history," Laf mumbles, sitting down on our bed.

"Next is my writing class, which I got a..." I gasp.

"What? What did you get?" John asks, sitting up and peering over my shoulder.

"Ninety-nine," I state. "Wow."

"Jesus, Alex, how much studying did you do?" Herc mumbles.

"A lot," John answers. "Come on, what did you get in law? I know you were really stressing over that."

I look at the grade and almost start to cry. "One hundred and four."

"Yay! Congrats Alex! I'm so proud of you!" John cheers, kissing me on the cheek.

I smile and lean into him. "Wow, at least I got it over with."

"As much as Herc and I would love to stay, we do need to pack. We're seeing you at the Schuyler's place after Christmas, correct?" Laf states, standing up.

John nods and smiles. "Adios."

"Mmf, this Christmas is gonna be good, right?" I ask John, closing my laptop and lying down next to him again.

"Yeah, baby, don't worry."


	21. The author got their first tatttoo in a public bathroom so Alex already has one up on him

/Alex/

"Come on John, please," I beg.

"Alex, why?" John asks, exasperated.

"Because it would look cool. Come on, a badass unicorn. You've done it before." At this point, I'm begging but I really want John to design it.

"Alex what if like, you decide you don't like it after two weeks?" John groans.

John and I have been going back and forth about a tattoo for about an hour. I want him to design it and he thinks that tattoos are a bad idea at this point in our lives, especially because we are so young. But I'm trying to convince him that a small tattoo that he can easily cover up is not a bad idea.

"Small," John finally says after a bit more arguing. "And I chose what I get. And yes, I will design you a unicorn. A badass unicorn."

"Yay! Thank you!" I cheer, smiling and jumping into his arms. I plant a kiss on his lips and am happy when he returns it. I love it when John kisses me. It's like nothing can come between us. It's just his body pressed against mine, his lips leaving the taste of mint and cinnamon in my mouth. The feeling of his hands on my hips. I don't want to ever let go. So I don't. And John gets the memo and lays both of us down, smiling as he runs his fingers through my hair.

"I love you," he tells me, smiling.

"I remember when I met you," I start. "It was so clear that you were the only one for me."

"We both knew it right away." John kisses my forehead.

"And as the years went on, things got more difficult, and we faced more challenges. But we still are like the way we were in the beginning." I run my fingers over John's cheek. "You're charismatic, magnetic, and electric, and everyone knows. When you walk in, everyone's head turns, everyone wants to talk to you. You're like this hybrid, this mix of a man who can't contain himself. I always get the sense, my dearest John, that you are torn between being a good person and missing out on all the opportunities that life could offer a man as magnificent as you. And in that way, I understand you. And I love you." I let out a small laugh. "I love you, I love you, I love you. I will always love you. I love you."

John pulls me closer and we close our eyes. Our hands fold into each other, our legs become tangled with each other, our hearts beat together. A wave of contentedness washes over me. So, I kiss John. And it's nice. Of course, it was, until my phone started to ring.

"Fuck me! Hump me! Daddy better make me choke!" My ringtone sings. I groan loudly and pick it up, not bothering to look at who's calling me.

"Hamilton," I state, cuddling back up to John.

"Hey Alex! It's me, Liza," I hear my friends voice say over the phone.

"Oh, hey lizard," I mumble as John begins to run his fingers along my thighs and hips.

"Don't call me that," she laughs. "Anyway, so, like, I know this is really premature but do you and your main man John wanna come to a New Years party? Since you two are already staying at my house for the break I figure you don't have much of a choice unless you get a hotel, but still."

I look at John with raised eyebrows and pursed lips. "Why yes, Eliza, since we are already staying at your house, we would love to go to your party."

"Sweet! See you soon!" Eliza hangs up and I look at John expectantly.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to stay at their house for the break," John starts. "We wouldn't be there for Christmas though."

"Why not?" I mumble.

John shrugs. "My mom texted me. She wants us to come home for Christmas. Yes, us. Including you. She said that even she missed you over Thanksgiving."

"What about your dad?" I ask, knowing that John's father is more or less the one we really need to worry about.

John shrugged. "My mom said that he can deal with it. She loves me and she misses you. And that's all that matters."

I smile a bit and cuddle closer to John. "She misses me?"

John nods. "Yeah, the whole Thanksgiving fiasco was mostly my dads doing anyway. I love my mom, but she's a bit of an enabler."

I sigh and bury my face in John's shoulder. God, I love him.

"Ow!" I squeal loudly.

"Sir, that was just the alcohol wipe." The tattoo artist gives me a stone like glare.

I laugh nervously. "Heh, sorry."

"Still want a tattoo?" John asks, laughing as he shuffles the flashcards I asked him to bring. We're sitting in a tattoo shop, Laf, and Herc in another chair. Herc is getting a pin-up girl tattoo of Laf on his forearm. Laf decided on The Beast Of Gévaudan right over his heart, which is really cool. Right now Laf is smiling and taking deep breaths with Herc while the tattoo artist works. They're cute. I'm still getting my badass unicorn, which John designed, on my shoulder, and John is getting a dragon on his ribs, a small one, but still a dragon.

"Yes, John! I do still want a tattoo!" I say matter-of-factly.

"Okay, the design is simple and should only take me about fifteen to twenty minutes. If you ever need to take a breather, tell me," the artist says.

"Okay, I'm ready. John! Quiz me!" I say. The needle touches my skin right as John starts talking, so I focus on my studies. Today, I'm just working on my vocabulary.

"Constitution," John says.

"A document that sets forth the framework of a government and its relationship to the people it governs," I state confidently.

"Statutes," John continues.

I smile. "Easy. Laws enacted by elected representatives of the people, state and federal."

"Defamation," John says slowly, knowing this one trips me up.

"Fuck, okay, defamation. It's, it's a statement, no, it's a false statement that injures a person's reputation. Slander is spoken and libel is written." I look at John hopefully, praying I got it right.

He gives me a thumbs up. And that's how my tattoo goes. John quizzes me, and I learn and memorize stuff. I know I'm going to make him do this again when I'm showering tonight, and then once more before bed, but I need it.

"Okay, Alex, just talk to me," John states when it's his turn to get the dragon tattooed on him. I nod, holding his hand. So, when the needle hits his skin, I begin talking. I start by stating some of the basic amendments that this country wrote down, and then I went on to talk about cases in the past where those amendments were abused and discarded. By the time John is done, I've talked about four murders, and two cases of corruption and embezzlement. And it only took about half an hour. The tattoo artist is utterly impressed with my knowledge of government.

"I've seen college kids do some crazy things to study, but flashcards while getting a tattoo? Never," the artist jokes.

"I just like to study. Schooling is very important to me," I state, making conversation. The tattoo artist is cute, nice, and seemingly pretty friendly.

"I'm Francis Kinloch," the artist says.

"I'm Alexander Hamilton," I reply.

"Okay, I gotta ask," Francis starts, lowering his voice a bit and glancing at John, who is talking to Herc while Laf gets his tattoo. "Your friend, is he single? Or gay? Preferable both?"

I run my tongue over my teeth and smile. "Uh, well, you see, he's uh, he's kinda dating me. And by kinda I mean him and I are dating."

Francis smiles and holds up his hands. "Okay, I got you. No need to worry kid, I won't make a move."

"Thank you," I state softly. I wave a bit and then go over to John. Laf is looking as if he were sunbathing while getting his tattoo. Like the pain doesn't even affect him. Herc, on the other hand, is still whining.

"It stings," he complains.

"Yes, baby, it's a tattoo," Laf chuckles.

"Whatever. I'm not like you Laf," Herc mumbles.

"What does that mean?" Laf asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I can't get off on pain! I don't like being in pain, you do," Herc exclaims.

"Baby, as much as I love making a scene, you did just tell everyone in this tattoo shop that I have a pain kink, which I do not appreciate," Laf states bluntly.

"I'm sorry, baby boy," Herc says, taking Laf's hand.

Laf smiles. "It's okay. I know you didn't mean to."

"Have you guys like, ever fought?" I ask, leaning into John.

Herc shrugs. "I mean, we've had situations like that, but like, we've never fought. We're just really honest with each other and it keeps a happy relationship."

"Honesty means happiness, I'll take that to note," John mumbles. "Laf, what is your tattoo of?"

"The Beast Of Gévaudan, it's a man-eating wolf," Laf states bluntly.

John chuckles. "Wow, okay."

We hang out in the tattoo shop for a little bit longer, until Laf's tattoo is done, then we get the soap to clean the tattoos and leave. These New York City streets have gotten colder and colder, and I find I'm building myself up more and more every time I go out. Right now, I have on my wool hat, my gloves, my boots, and my thick jacket, as well as two sweaters and a pair of warm leggings under my jeans. John likes to tease me that I'm overreacting but then I remind him that more than half my life was spent in the tropics, where sixty degrees was cold.

"I'm excited to see it," Herc says as we step into their dorm. "Speaking of Laf in revealing clothes, I need to measure you guys for the lingerie you agreed to wear."

"Goddammit," Alex mutters.

"Okay, you two, strip. I already have Laf's measurements," Herc commands.

Both John and I begin to strip down to our underwear and for a second I forget that I'm in Herc's dorm and I begin to feel a little aroused at John's body, but then I quickly try to drown it out by the fact that Laf and Herc are staring at the both of us. And then I realized, Laf and Herc are staring at the both of us. They can see the uneven pink scars on my stomach from the hurricane, they can see gashes on the inside of my thighs from the tree I held onto. I realize just how naked I am right now.

"Herc," I start as he begins to measure John.

"Yes, dear?" He mumbles.

"Can I request, I don't know, just, not as revealing lingerie? I just, I feel a little self-conscious about some parts of me," I state, knowing my voice is getting smaller.

Herc nods enthusiastically as he wraps a tape measure around John's hips. "Yeah, of course! I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. Oh, I have a perfect idea, let me pull out my design book when I'm done with the both of you."

Herc finishes measuring Jon and then goes to me. I've never had another person this close to certain areas, but Herc is very professional and modest, and soon enough, I'm putting on clothes while Herc flips through a book with seemingly hundreds pages.

"A lot of designers like to do their work digitally," Herc starts, flipping back a few pages and then forward a couple more. "But I don't like that. Because, like, with this, I could design something on a napkin and then just stick it in here without having to redraw it. Ah! Here is the design!" He holds out the book for me to see.

It's mostly black. It starts out with a pair of high waisted booty shorts sort of, that connect to thigh high socks, A simply pair of suspenders hold up the shorts on the lightly sketched model. I like it.

"I'd change a few things for you," Herc starts. "For one, you wouldn't wear this in black. I'm thinking... pine green, silk. And I think I would pair this with a short untied pine green silk robe, but with black lace trim. If you didn't feel comfortable with certain parts of you being shown off, we could definitely work around that. But you do need to wear makeup."

"I like it," I say, looking at Herc. "I really like it. Thank you."

Herc nods then gesture for John to look over while he starts flipping again. "John, for you I decided we would take a much more feminine turn. I'm talking a dusty rose color to enunciate your freckles. Lace, definitely lace. And you're going to start off in the shoot with a translucent robe, but lose it halfway through. Now, you're going to have more of a thong like thing, and collar. Oh, a gag if you don't mind. I was thinking of leaving your chest bare but if I did I would add some thigh highs. How's that?"

John nods. "Yeah, okay, I like it."

"Oh and," Herc continues, obviously very into this. "I will want to do a couple of group shots, so that means you two, Laf, James, and possibly Thomas altogether. I got a couch and everything. Will that be good?"

John and I nod.

Herc closes the book and then pulls out another, which is a planner. I have to say, I don't see a day free as he flips through his book. "Okay, we're doing the shoot after New Years. I should have everything done by then. I wrote down your measurements so stuff should fit, and you guys like the designs?"

"Yes, Herc, it's wonderful," I say, smiling.


	22. It’s Christmas So Let’s Don Our Gay Apparel

/John/

There's something about having to pull over a few blocks away from your childhood home due to a panic attack that is just embarrassing. But here I am, my head in Alex's lap, trying to steady my breathing. It was triggered by just the familiar sights. I'm realizing I'm about to introduce Alex to my parents as my boyfriend. I'm realizing my dad knows I'm gay and I'm coming home. Oh my god.

"Hey, hey, it's gonna be okay," Alex whispers lightly, running his fingers through my hair. "And if anything happens, we can head straight to the Schuylers. We have one and a half days here. Tomorrow's Christmas, then we leave. Then we leave. It's going to be okay. I'm going to be right here for you."

"I'm sorry, I just, I need to calm down. I'm just nervous," I tell him.

Alex nods. "I understand. Take your time."

I sit up and sigh, shaking my head lightly. "Okay, I can do this."

"You can," Alex tells me, placing his hand on my thigh.

I start the car again and we continue to drive. I place one hand over Alex's as we pull into the driveway. I can see my mom looking at us through the window. She waves happily and I wave back, as well as Alex. We step out of the car and grab our bags. We only packed enough for a few nights and gave our bigger bags to the Schuyler's to put in our rooms for when we get there. It's about six pm now, and even though we started driving at eight, we're a bit drowsy, but I know I'll be able to stay awake until it's time to sleep.

"John! Alex! My boys!" My mom says happily as she welcomes us in. She hugs me and then Alex, kissing both of our cheeks.

"Hiya momma," I say happily.

"It's wonderful to see you, Rachel," Alex chimes, obviously very happy. This isn't just my childhood home, it's his too. It's the only place he really grew up in.

"I hope you boys are hungry, I've been cooking with your grandma all day. She's in the living room, go say hello," my mom rambles. Alex and I nod and make our way to the living room, where my grandma sits, reading a book.

"Grandma!" I say happily. I lean down and hug her, smiling while Alex places our gifts under the tree. For Christmas, I think I did pretty well this year. The Schuyler's, Laf and Herc all agreed that we'd have a second Christmas so we can give them their presents too.

"Johnny! Oh! Is that Alex? Come here, my boy!" My grandma says, standing up and reaching her arms out to Alex. "It's so good to see you. I don't know what nonsense my son was thinking, not inviting you to Thanksgiving, I missed you very much. And I have been very much enjoying your letters. It's nice for an old lady like me to get more mail than just magazines and ads."

"Letters?" I question slowly.

My grandma smiles. "Every Sunday I get a letter from Alex telling me about how you two are doing. It's very nice."

I hum. "I never knew that."

Alex blushes and shrugs a bit. "Your grandma and I are pen pals. It's nice."

I smile and almost without thinking, lean in and kiss his cheek. "You're perfect."

"Ha! Your aunt owes me ten dollars. I told her you'd be dating by Christmas, she said summer," my grandma cheers.

My cheeks turn bright red when I realize what I've done. "Shh, I haven't told my momma or dad yet. Please, keep this a secret."

My grandma nods and zips her lips. "I got it. But still, I'm very happy for you boys. Those last couple of years were pretty agonizing, weren't they?"

I nod and smile. "Yeah, they were."

"John, Alex," I hear my dad say. I turn around to see him standing in the doorway. He has a very monotone look on his face.

"Hi, dad," I mumble.

"John, don't you dare apologize to him," My grandma scolds. "He should apologize to both you and Alex for what he said."

"Wait, why to me?" Alex asks.

"Shit," I mumble, realizing I never told Alex what my dad called him, what my dad said.

"Dinner!" My mom calls out.

"John, why should he apologize to me? I wasn't even there," Alex whispers as we fall behind my grandma and dad.

"He may have called you something and blamed you for something," I mumble.

"What did he call me?" Alex asks.

I sigh and discretely take his hand. "Let's talk about it after dinner."

"Okay," Alex mumbles.

We sit down at the table and my mom brings dish after dish of amazing food into the dining room and sets it down. The food ranges from pasteles and coquito to plantains and guanimes con bacalao. Rice and beans of course, as well as Alex's favorite Caribbean dish, jerk chicken. My mom always prepares that when Alex is here for the holidays. I once asked her why and she told me that she wanted to make sure he felt at home and that she knew how important culture was, so she didn't want him to feel ostracized for his culture. My dad and grandma are black but they also have Puerto Rican in them, so they never feel the need to add anything to the authentic dishes my mom can prepare.

"So, how did finals go?" My mom asks.

I beam. "I did okay, but Alex did wonderfully."

Alex shrugs, probably thinking of the B- he got in statistics.

"He got in the nineties in most of his classes, and a one hundred and four in law," I boast.

"You're forgetting my eighty-two in statistics," Alex points out.

"His advanced statistics class," I vouch.

"Wow, I'm very proud of both of you," my mom says, smiling. "Have you boys had enough money?"

I nod. "We have. I'm applying for jobs so we can have a bit more though. I think I'm going to work at the aquarium."

"That's wonderful, John," my mom states.

"Alex, are you looking for any jobs?" My dad asks, obviously trying to start something.

Alex smiles knowingly. He only smiles like this when he knows he's winning in a debate. "Well, yes. I have a job actually lined up for me this summer. I'm working for one of my professors in a law firm. It pays very well."

I smirk. My dad doesn't.

"Alex, John, are you two behaving?" My grandma asks. "I know what college is like, all the parties and drugs."

Alex looks at me, eyebrows raised.

"Nothing addicting, and no parties on school nights, I remember," I say, tapping my temple and giving my grandma a knowing smile. "Um, there is something I'd like to tell you guys though if that's okay."

Alex knows what I'm going to say, so he carefully reaches under the table and places his hand on my thigh, silently telling me 'you can do this.'

"What is it, John?" My mom asks.

"Well, I kinda started dating someone," I state. "Like, we're dating."

"What's her name?" My dad asks.

"They're a boy," I state, feeling my stomach drop a little bit.

"What's his name?" My mom asks, smiling. My grandma has a giddy smile on her face, almost like a child at Christmas. I refuse to look at my dad though.

"Uh, his name is Alex," I choke out, my voice growing a bit quieter. "Alexander Hamilton."

"What?" My dad spits.

"About time," my grandma squeals.

"Oh, you weren't dating before?" My mom asks.

I chuckle. "No, uh, we sorta fessed up about our feelings before I came for Thanksgiving and for a while we were only hypothetically dating and then I finally asked and he said yes."

"You're dating him?" My dad spits. Alex squeezes my thigh and closes his eyes.

"Yeah," I say, sitting up straighter and looking my dad dead in the eye. "Yeah, I am. He and I are dating, and I'm proud to say that."

"Rachel, we can't seriously be letting them stay in this house," my dad spits, looking at my mom.

My mom calmly stands up, then looks my father dead in the eye. "Henry, please get out of my house."

"So you're picking our fag son and his fag boyfriend over me?" My dad says, standing up and knocking the chair over. I stand up too, ready to defend my mom.

"I am picking my son and his boyfriend over you, Henry. Now please leave," my mom states calmly.

"This is bullshit," my dad grumbles, storming off. We hear the front door slam and my mom and I sit back down.

"Now, let's get back to an enjoyable Christmas, okay?" My grandma says. She then looks to us. "Have you said the L word yet?"

"Mom! Don't rush the boys!" My mother points her fork at my grandma.

Alex laughs. "Yes, I believe we have."

The rest of dinner goes by smoothly without my dad or his negative energy, and soon enough, the four of us are all in the living room, drinking hot cocoa and watching It's A Wonderful Life, which is a Christmas tradition for us. Alex and I are cuddled up next to each other with a blanket over us, keeping us warm. It's nice. Especially the hot chocolate. My mom makes it homemade and she always puts cinnamon and a bit of peppermint in it and it makes it taste amazing. I've never realized how much nicer Christmas can be without my dad.

When the movie ends, my mom is asleep and my grandma has already retired to her room, so I put a blanket over my mom and then make my way upstairs with Alex. Walking into our old room, Alex seems to relax. He falls naturally onto the bed as if it hasn't been five months since he's seen this place. His pants easily come off, leaving him in just boxers and a tee shirt. I slip off my jeans too, then lie down next to him. It's weird to think we shared this bed for almost five years. We slept together and held each other for five years and yet we never went any farther. It's bizarre.

"Whatcha thinking, baby?" Alex asks, gently running his hand over my chest.

"Just how much sex we would've had in this bed if we confessed our feelings in high school," I reply, chuckling.

Alex laughs. "God, could you imagine? That would've been a mess."

"Literally," I joke.

Alex sighs and throws his leg over my waist. "Hey, John?"

"Hm?" I run my fingers along his back gently.

"I love you," he mumbles, his voice sounding tired.

"I love you too." I close my eyes and pull the blanket over us a bit more. Alex snuggles in a bit closer to me, keeping the both of us warm. I place one of my hands over his thigh and take a deep breath. I am happy to be home with him. I'm happy to finally be honest with my mom and grandma. I'm happy my dad isn't breathing down my neck. And I can fall asleep easy, knowing that I have Alex right next to me.

"John! Johnny! Baby!" Is what I wake up to.

"Mmf, what?" I groan, my eyes still closed.

"Wake up! It's Christmas!" Exclaims Alex, shaking me.

"Christmas can wait another fifteen minutes," I groan.

"Mm," Alex hums breathily, his hand gently stroking my thigh. "But I want to give you my present now, Papi."

I sit up and look at Alex. "What exactly is your present?"

I'm pulled out of bed by this Caribbean and tugged out of the room. "Come on! It's under the tree!"

"You cheated," I mumble.

Alex smiles and kisses me. "Maybe so. But your mom made cookies and pumpkin bread and hot chocolate and omelets. And we're college kids who steal food any chance we get, so..." Alex shrugs.

I groan as we walk into the kitchen where my mom stands. "Alex just because you can wake up early doesn't mean I can."

"Good morning boys. John, it's nice to see you're finally awake," My mom says. "Alex helped with breakfast so make sure to thank him."

"How long have you been awake?" I question, looking at Alex.

"Your mom and I have been up since six. We've always woken up together. Usually, we just read in the living room though, but since it's a holiday, we made breakfast!" Alex cheers, grabbing a plate.

"Merry Christmas," I smile, grabbing a plate and grabbing some pumpkin bread and an omelet. My grandma comes in when I sit down with Alex and serves herself some food too. Soon enough, we're all sitting down and eating, enjoying a quiet Christmas morning.

"How did you boys sleep last night?" My grandma asks.

"Really well," Alex comments, his mouth half full.

"Mom," I whine like a child. "When can we open presents?"

"As soon as we finish up breakfast," my mom scolds.

"Aw, does John want to open up some presents?" Alex teases, ruffling up my hair and smiling like an idiot.

I blush. "Yes. But I'm also very excited for you to open your present."

Alex smiles and takes another bite of his pancake. "I can't wait."

Alex and I have a very specific formula when it comes to buying each other Christmas gifts. We both buy two gifts for the other. One is a joke gift. Joke gifts have consisted of the Kama Sutra, an ugly and offset framed picture of the recipient, dentures, among other things. The other gift we buy is something that sentimental that the other person would actually like. Those have consisted of books, hoodies, and a very nice drawing. This year, for a joke, I bought Alex called 'Reasons to Elect Republicans Into Government.' The joke is that the book is just full of blank pages. Like literally just two hundred blank pieces of paper. I thought he'd like it. For the real gift though, I got him some fancy paper with 'A. Ham' printed on the top in gold, as well as a quill, some ink, and a hoodie that says 'Political As Fuck.' I also got him something else but I'm not gonna give it to him until we're alone. I really hope he likes it.

"Okay boys, breakfast is done, it's time to open presents," my mom says. I cheer and Alex and I rush into the living room. We sit on the floor just like we did when we were kids and begin looking through presents.

"Open the ones from me first!" My grandma laughs as she comes in.

Alex and I find the ones from her to us and open them. Sweaters and hats, both knitted by her. My sweater is pale yellow and my hat is a nice navy blue. Alex's sweater is pine green and his hat is a very nice wine red.

"I know it's cold up in New York, so I made you boys some things to keep you warm," My grandma tells us.

"Thank you!" Alex smiles. We both get up and kiss her cheek, then pull out our gifts to her. I painted her a very nice New York street on a rainy day, which she loved, and Alex got her a book he found and figured she would like. She kissed both our cheeks and said they were the best presents she had ever gotten, which she says every year.

"Okay kids, now open mine," My mom says giddily. "There's three so you gotta open the ones that are to each of you first, and then open the one that to both of you together."

Alex and I find our separate presents. My mom got both me and Alex a bunch of socks, which we desperately needed, as well as a book of poetry for me with white letters on black paper so I can read it easily, and a very old looking book for Alex.

"What is it?" I find myself asking Alex.

"Holy mother of all things holy, it's a reprint of the Federalist papers. But like, look. It's scanned from the newspaper they were published in. Holy, how did you get this?" Alex is in awe as he looks at my mom.

My mom merely smiles. "I have friends in high places, and I knew it interested you so I thought I'd get it for you."

"Thank you," Alex whispers. "Thank you so much."

"Of course, now both of you, open your other present," she says, smiling. Alex and I realize it's the biggest box under the tree. I don't really know what we need that is so big, and by the look on his face, neither does Alex. But my mom wants us to open it, so we both grab a bit of the paper and tear it off together. At first, we are only looking at the back of the box, so we turn it and gasp.

"You got us a mini-fridge?" I squeal.

"Yes! I know how you boys have been living off of chips and ramen for the past few months so I figured I might as well get you one of these so you can store actual food, like vegetables and leftovers. You guys do remember what leftovers are, right?" My mom asks seriously.

"Thank you, momma," I say, kissing her cheek.

"Thanks, Rachel, you're awesome," Alex praises, kissing her cheek as well.

Alex and I provide her the gifts from us, which consists of a painting of her childhood home in Puerto Rico from me, and both a Puerto Rican cookbook and a Caribbean cookbook from Alex. Alex has explained to me many a time that when it comes to people other than me, he is terrible at gifts, so he usually buys books. He's actually pretty good at choosing books for other people, but he'd never admit that out loud.

"Okay, Alex, here, open mine," I say, shoving the joke gift into his arms.

"I hope it's a puppy," Alex jokes. He tears off the wrapping and gives it an odd look. "Reasons to Elect Republicans Into Government." He opens it, and then his laughter fills the room. His sweet melodic laughter.

"What does it say?" My grandma asks.

"Nothing! All the pages are blank! John, this is absolutely the best gift I've ever gotten," Alex says. He tackles me in a hug and I kiss his forehead.

"I'm glad you liked it, lion man," I mumble, smiling.

"Okay, now you open mine," Alex says quickly, grabbing a very nicely wrapped box. I look at him with raised eyebrows but tear off the wrapping paper and open the box. Inside is a bell. Not just a regular bell though, because inscribed in big bold letters on the side it says 'RING FOR ATTENTION.' This boy sure knows the way to my heart.

"This is everything I've ever needed and more," I state.

"I'm glad you like it," Alex jokes, leaning in and kissing my cheek.

"Okay, now open this one," I state, handing him the bag that holds paper and quill and ink. I wrapped the hoodie separately because I figured it would work out better like that.

Alex gasps when he pulls the stuff out of the bag. "It's so pretty! Oh my gosh, I'm gonna write so many things. Oh! I'll write a Christmas card to professor Washington! I'll write to Charles Lee and tell him what he oughta do with that mouth he runs all the time."

"Calm down Rocky, you got another that I just didn't wrap with those. Come on, open it," I say, handing him his hoodie.

He opens it and smiles. "Yes! I'm gonna wear this on my first day back to class." He holds it up to show my mom and grandma, covering the 'fuck' with his hand. "Okay John, now it's your turn." He hands me another present. It's in a bag.

The first thing I pull out is a shirt. It says 'Respect Immigrants, Save Turtles, Protest Government.' I smile wide, knowing he probably had it made for me. "I love this. It's perfect."

"There's one more, it's in the bag," Alex says, looking excited. I pull out a small box and open it. Inside in a charm on plain black twine. I get a closer look at the charm and smile when I read the words. 'I am disgusted by everything in the world but yourself.' It's on a small rectangle of silver. It's beautiful.

"I-" I'm lost for word. I don't even know what to say.

"It's cheesy, I know, but I just thought you might like it and I know you really like it when I say that and I know you've been looking for a necklace or something and I just thought that maybe you'd like it but if you don't I get it-"

I cut Alex off by kissing him. "I love it."

He gets a very hopeful look on his face. "Really?"

I nod as I put it on. "It's perfect."

"You boys are too in love," my grandma teases.

"They are. Uncle Mickey, aunt Bianca, and Aurora will be over soon so let's clean up a little bit, yeah?" My mom asks. Alex and I nod and begin to pick up the wrapping paper. We bring our gifts upstairs, then panic and ask my mom about presents for them to which she explains that she told them we're poor college kids who can't afford to buy a lot. We then go and get on some real clothes, me in a pair of joggers and a tee shirt, and Alex in some jeans and the sweater my grandma knit for him.

"It's so soft," he comments as he walks downstairs.

"You're adorable," I mumble, pulling him into my arms and kissing him.

"John!" Alex squeals when I bite down on his lip. "You're so weird."

I smile and peck his lips again. "I know, baby girl."

"Hola hola familia! Venimos llevando regalos y comida!" I hear my uncle's voice ring through the house.

"Mickey! Bianca!" Alex calls out excitedly. He bolts down the stairs and goes to hug my family happily.

"Alex! It's so good to see you!" My aunt Bianca exclaims.

I walk in on Alex hugging my aunt and uncle, then taking a few bags from their arms so they don't struggle to carry the stuff. Then he hugs Aurora, who looks very happy to see him.

"Bianca! You owe me ten dollars!" My grandma calls, waddling in to hug everyone.

"What is it this time?" Aunt Bianca laughs, hugging my grandma and walking into the living room to set down the gifts.

"I said they'd be dating before Christmas and I was right! Hand it over!" My grandma cheers, bringing a blush to both mine and Alex's cheeks.

"They were dating before Thanksgiving," Aurora shoots.

"Not Technically! We weren't even hypothetically dating then, we just confessed our feelings," Alex chimes.

"You did a lot more than confess your feelings from the looks of John's neck," Aurora mumbles. I swat her shoulder, bringing a playful smirk from her.

"Come on, everyone, go sit in the living room, I'll bring pumpkin bread and chips out," my mom comments, shooing everyone into the living room.

"So you two are official?" Uncle Mickey asks, raising his eyebrows.

I laugh as I sit on the floor next to Alex, placing my arm around him. "Yes, yes we are official, are you all satisfied?"

"Yes! Ugh, it was a slow burn fanfic that lasted years!" Aurora groans.

"Everyone was rooting for you two, except your father of course. Speaking of which, where is he?" Aunt Bianca asks, looking around.

My mom walks in with a plate and a bowl. "Last night I asked him to leave, due to the way he referred to my son and my son in law."

"Jeez mom, we aren't married yet," I state, laughing.

"Yet?" Alex asks.

I realize I have been caught in the act and for some reason, my nerves get the best of me and dictate my reply. "What? You think I was going to subconsciously flirt with you for years and let you steal my first kiss then not marry you?"

"He was your first kiss? Didn't you have girlfriends or whatever in high school?" My mom asks.

I laugh. "No, all the dates I ever went on just consisted of Alex and I going to a drive-in movie. Wow, now's a good time to tell you that no girls actually even talked to me in high school. Man, now that I'm out it feels so good, to be honest."

"I totally called it," Aurora states, raising her hand. "When John was in his freshman year I looked at my parents and said 'he seems gay.' You can ask them."

Aunt Bianca nods. "She did say that."

"How could you tell? I didn't even know I liked boys then," I state. It was true. I didn't know I was asexual, and I definitely didn't know I liked boys back then.

Aurora rolls her eyes. "Please, what kind of straight guy knows all the lyrics to the Legally Blonde musical and the reenacts it with his guy best friend?"

I flip her off, bringing a choice of words from my mom.

The rest of the day goes by peacefully, and soon enough, my extended family has gone to sleep, and Alex and I have made our way to our room. Alex is putting on quite a show as I sit on my bed. He's dancing and singing Lana Del Rey, being overly sexual with his dance moves. He's slowly be stripping and is now only dancing in his boxers and a tee shirt, trying to grind properly. Instead, he's just making me laugh.

"Alex, baby, I got you another gift," I state as the song comes to an end.

"Hey, no fair!" Alex whines, sitting on the bed, a bit out of breath. "You broke our joke gift real gift spree!"

"I know, I know. I just, I didn't want to give this to you in front of my family," I say, laughing and blushing.

"Ooh, did John get me some sexy lingerie?" Alex laughs, pushing my shoulder a bit.

I shake my head. "Now before I give you this, I just want to let you know that nothing is final and if you don't like it we can always pick something else."

"Okay okay, gimme gimme," Alex whines, reaching his hand out like a child.

I smile and pull out the envelope from my backpack and hand it to him. He looks at me with a raised eyebrow and then opens it, pulling out the papers. It's folded three times so Alex easily unfolds it and begins scanning it over. I watch his face go from confusion to awe. He looks up at me, his jaw dropped and his eyes wide.

"I just figured, we can't live in the dorms over the summer and we'll both be able to have full-time jobs to pay. I know it's not the best, but I remember your fantasy about living in a brownstone apartment during a hot New York summer," I say, my voice growing quiet and my cheeks burning.

"John," Alex whispers. "I, I love it!" He dives onto me and hugs me. "I love it! I love it! It's perfect! You're perfect! I love it!"

"I'm glad!" I say, smiling as I hold him in my arms.

"I love you," Alex whisper, looking up at me.

"I love you too," I reply, taking his face in my hands. I gently lean down and plant a kiss on his lips. "Come on, we leave tomorrow, we really outta sleep."

Alex nods and smiles. "I can't wait for this summer."

I nod and lie down with him, reaching over and turning out the lamp and placing the papers on the nightstand. "Neither can I."

Alex rarely drives, for many reasons. Number one: he's terrible at it. Him driving wouldn't kill anyone, but the boy goes too fast around turns, is always distracted at stop lights, doesn't know how to use the blinker, and never pulls up enough when stopping at an intersection. Number two: I like to drive. It's one of my favorite things to do. It's so relaxing and calming to me, and Alex knows that, so usually when we're driving anywhere, I'm the one making sure we get there safely while Alex plays with the radio, making sure we have some funky tunes to listen to while we get there. And finally, number three: he has road rage. Not just the kind that involves the flip of a middle finger and a small honk, no, he leans on the horn for a minute straight and lets out the most profound string of curse words ever. It's shocking, honestly, to hear the kinds of things this boy can say. The last time I let him drive him and this other driver actually got out of the car to fight. That was a fun day.

So, as Alex sits behind the wheel at five am, driving us back to New York, I find myself tiredly mumbling reminders at him. We packed up and left early so we could get to the Schuylers around noon, but, unfortunately, I was not rested enough to drive, so Alex and I traded roles in our car trip and Alex lets me sleep, which is something I need after seeing my family. I love them, but they are draining.

I wake up at nine to Alex singing. Not like, actual good singing though, more like a dying vulture who learned the lyrics to Africa by Toto. So I grumble and put my hands over my ears as Alex's voice cracks and blares along with the radio.

"Alex! Alex!" I yell, turning down the radio.

"Shit, sorry, did I wake you?" He asks.

"Did you think you wouldn't?" I reply, looking at him and ruffling up my hair.

Alex smiles sheepishly at me. "Sorry."

I laugh and lean over, kissing his cheek. "It's okay baby I-Alex the road!"

"Shit!" Alex yells as he swerves back into his lane and narrowly avoids getting hit by a semi. "Holy fuck! That was so close!"

"Too close! Pull over!" I yell back.

Alex pulls into a shoulder on the road and smiles at me guiltily. "Sorry baby."

I smile and lean over, kissing him. "It's okay love. You're all good."


	23. He's packing a stretch limousine (as long as he keeps it clean)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haha virgins

/John/

Second Christmas at the Schuyler's was fun. From Laf everyone got a very French-centric gift. Alex got the French flag but as a blanket and I got a French translation book which Laf said was for when Alex and I started having sex. Herc embroidered vine references into pieces of fabric for us. Mine is definitely going up on the wall. The Schuyler's got everyone sweaters and little journals, plus a sewing machine for Herc, which was super cool. Alex and I got Herc a shirt that said 'I like to blow bubbles' and then we got Laf a shirt that said 'He calls me bubbles.' They then proceeded to put them on and take multiple pictures, posting them everywhere they could. I think Herc made a MySpace account just so he could post a picture of the shirt. For the Schuyler's though, we got Angelica a light pink beanie with a rose on it, Eliza a light blue beanie with a bluebird on it, and Peggy a light yellow beanie with a sunflower on it.

"John! You look fine!" Alex whines. We're both in the bathroom that connects to our room in the Schuyler's house. About thirty minutes ago Alex slipped on a long sleeve tee shirt and ran a brush through his hair, then tied it up in a ponytail before deciding he was ready for the New Year's party one of the rich neighbor kids was throwing. I, on the other hand, picked out a very nice outfit of some slim fitting blue jeans, as well as a grey short sleeve button up thrown over a maroon tee shirt for some punk band I used to really like. Right now I'm tieing my hair up into a ponytail, knowing I'll want it out of my face tonight.

"Damn boy, I just want to make sure," I laugh, leaning down and kissing him. He has taken his place lying across the empty bathroom counter and reciting poetry while I make myself go from a seven to a solid nine.

"Ugh, you're like hotter than me on your worst days when you really try it makes me look like actual shit standing next to you," Alex complains.

"Well, I think you're very pretty," I comment, smiling at him. "Now come on, I'm sure they're waiting for us."

Alex gets off the counter and we walk hand in hand downstairs to the large living room. Laf and Herc and Peggy are the only ones down. Laf is wearing tight black booty shorts and fishnets, as well as a crop top that says 'homosexual tendencies.' He looks very pretty, I can't deny that. Herc, who is only wearing blue jeans and a white tee shirt, is in for a long night. Peggy has on a yellow off the shoulder tee shirt and a pair of blue skinny jeans. Soon enough, Eliza comes out wearing a light blue strapless dress that defines her curves very well, and a pair of black heels.

"Angie! Hurry your black ass up!" Peggy yells loudly.

"Sorry! Couldn't find my jacket!" Angelica yells, coming out in a pair of black skinny jeans, a pink tee shirt, and a blue denim jacket with a rose on the back.

"That's cute, where'd you get that?" Laf comments, pointing to Angie's jacket.

"Thrift store baby. I don't shop designer." Angelica winks.

"Okay, let's get this show on the road! Hurry up ya freaks," Peggy chimes, standing up. We all slip on our shoes and walk a few houses down to where the booming party is taking place. I'm not going to drink tonight. I just want to be with Alex. I want to celebrate New Year's with Alex. There are only a few hours left in this year and goddamn, I'm gonna make it last.

"John!" Alex yells over the music.

"Yeah?" I reply.

"Stay with me please!" He requests. I nod and we delve into the party. I drag Alex to the drinks table first and get a bottle of ginger ale. I sip it and scan over the people, holding Alex's hand tightly. Herc and Laf are practically fucking on the dance floor, Angie is talking to a couple of guys, making them laugh, Peggy and Eliza are on the dance floor, dancing like there's no tomorrow. The music is really good, and so I find myself pulling Alex onto the dance floor, smiling. The music is good and the night is hot, and the song playing is from the Blindspotting soundtrack and oh my god that was such a good soundtrack.

"Dance with me," I whisper into his ear, pulling him close to my body, my hands landing on his hips.

"John, I can't dance and you know this," Alex states, leaning against me, wrapping his arms around my neck,

I groan and smack his ass gently. "Just grind on me. I know you can do that."

Alex blushes but yes, starts grinding on me. I squeeze his ass a little harder and we continue to dance together. Alex is smiling as the music blares and our bodies move together. He looks so beautiful and free, and I love him for that. I love him for the way he releases his hair out of his ponytail and lets it move freely with him. I love him for the way his hands touch me. I love him so fucking much, and there's nowhere I'd rather be with him than right here right now. Especially since he's been grinding on me non stop and he is for sure the hottest guy at this party.

"John, baby, it's our song!" Alex cheers as My Holiday by Bryce Vine comes on. Alex and I have always loved this song because it just makes us feel happy. We listened to it a lot on the way up to New York.

"Yes, it is," I reply, kissing him. We begin to move ourselves to the beat of the song, kissing and laughing. Euphoria pumps through my veins and I hug him close to me. He looks so happy and goddamn, I am too.

The song comes to an end and Alex pulls me off the dance floor. "I'm worn out already. I wanna try and find some water before we hit the floor again."

"Okay baby," I say, leading him towards the kitchen. I find a cup and then let him know that I'm going to use the restroom. I find one quickly enough, ignore the kids sitting in the bathtub doing coke, and take a piss.

"I'll pay you ten dollars if you pee on my face," says a drunk girl. She and a boy are sitting in the tub with a mirror holding about ten lines of coke on it. She looks totally out of it, and like she's already cried a couple times tonight.

"No thank you," I state calmly, finishing up and putting my dick back in my pants.

"Your loss," says the girl, snorting another line of coke.

I quickly walk out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen. Alex is talking to a guy who looks about two seconds away from making a move. To prevent that from happening, I quickly walk up to Alex and kiss him. Alex squeals and giggles, and the guy leaves.

"John, baby," Alex whispers against my lips. "I love you."

"I love you too," I reply. A bit of a nicer slower song comes on so I find myself gently swaying with Alex in the kitchen. He wraps his arms around my neck and smiles, gently pressing a kiss to my lips.

Suddenly, towards the end of the song both our arms are grabbed by Laf and Herc.

"Angie requested your stripper song! Come on Alex! Time to shake what your momma gave ya!" A very drunk Laf says.

"Yes!" I cheer, knowing I'm about to be ground on heavily.

"Oh my god," Alex groans. They pull us to the middle of the dance floor just as the other song ends and Shake That by Eminem comes on. Alex starts out more just dancing for me, twerking, grinding on the air, turning around, shaking his ass. When it gets to the part where Nate Dogg is singing he starts getting handsy with me, touching my chest and crotch and ass and stomach. The pre-chorus comes on and Alex moves his ass against my front, but the moment the chorus comes on, he bends over and twerks perfectly to the beat. I don't even try to resist getting a boner at this point. The second verse plays and Alex is not even holding back, palming me through my jeans, biting my neck, grinding on me like there's no tomorrow. Of course, I move with him, grinding back, grabbing his ass, pulling his hair. We're almost soft porn at this point.

"Shake that ass for me," the speaker booms. Alex twerks to every word, pressing his ass hard against my hard-on. He's very obviously trying to tease me. The song ends and I think for a second that I might catch a break, but then Rude Boy by Rihanna comes on and I can't help but take control of Alex, grinding into him, squeezing his ass, biting and kissing him. If anyone had any doubts about whether we were dating, they don't anymore.

It seems that every song just keeps getting more sexual, and my jeans keep getting tighter and tighter. Alex seems to be forgetting we're in front of people because this shy boy has been rubbing me through my jeans for the past five minutes. I'm moaning lightly in his ear as we continue dancing.

"John, baby," Alex whines. "Let's go find an empty room."

"Okay, wait, while I have Herc in my sight, lemme go ask him something, go wait for me by the drinks table," I state. Alex nods and I make my way through the crowd to Herc. He and Laf are making out against a wall, but they stop when they see me.

"Hi John, hi John's penis," Laf giggles.

"Herc, do you have a condom?" I ask.

Herc smirks and pulls a condom out of his pocket. "Go get em, tiger."

I thank him and quickly make my way back to where Alex is. I take his hand and we find a stairwell. Since it's still kinda early, only ten-thirty, not many people are up here and finding an empty room is easy. It looks kinda like a gaming room, so Alex and I take our place on the soft carpet on the floor. I'm lying on top of him, kissing him like there's no tomorrow, and who knows? Maybe there isn't. It's New Year's, you never know.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," I mumble, pulling away and looking at Alex's face.

Alex giggles. "I think we're just drunk."

"I'm not drunk. I haven't had anything to drink. Are you drunk?" I ask.

Alex shakes his head. "No."

"I love you," I smile, kissing him again.

"John," Alex moans. "John baby, I need you."

I pull away again and look down at him, biting my lip. "Are you sure?"

Alex nods. "But, I wanna ride you. Laf told me that it was the most painless way to do it when you're a virgin."

I smirk. "I have no problem with you riding me."

Alex kisses me again and we slowly start to get rid of our clothes. My shirt comes off first, then Alex's. Soon enough we're kicking off our shoes and slipping off our jeans. I grab the condom from my pocket and set it next to Alex's head.

"I'm gonna prep you, okay?" I say softly.

He nods and I slowly slip down his boxers. He's really fucking hard. I don't think I've ever seen him naked, and holy shit, he's so beautiful. I have to sit back and stare for a little bit, sitting on my knees between his legs. He's blushing heavily, and I can tell he's starting to feel self-conscious.

"You're so beautiful," I whisper, running my hand along his chest.

He smiles. "Skip the niceties John, we're fucking in a gaming room."

"Nah, we're nothing fucking, we're making love," I state. I hold two fingers to his mouth. "Suck, we're making due without lube."

Alex chuckles a bit and takes my two fingers in his mouth. It's really hot, I'm not going to lie. And the way he's using his tongue, fuck I'm gonna have to ask for a blowjob at some point, because hot damn, the boy is good.

When I decide my fingers are wet enough, I bring them down and push one into him. He moans and arches his back. Holy fuck, the boy is so hot and he doesn't even know it. When I push the second one in, he lets out a mix between a moan and a scream and I look up, concerned.

"Hey, are you good?" I ask.

He nods. "Fuck, fuck I'm so good. Holy shit."

I chuckle and continue fucking him with my fingers. He feels really tight and it's making me even harder if it's possible. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to hold out, but I don't want to rush Alex into anything.

"John, I need you, fuck," Alex moans. I thank the Gods as I pull my fingers out of him. He sits up and pushes me onto my back. He grabs the condom and then quickly pulls down my boxers, almost like he can't stand to wait any longer. He gasps a little bit at my size, biting his lip. I really hope that I don't hurt him and I'm not too big for him.

"Take your time baby," I say gently.

He smirks and rips open the condom package with his teeth, then rolls the condom onto me. I moan at the slight contact. Jesus this boy can turn me into putty.

"Ah! Fuck!" I let out an embarrassingly high pitched moan when Alex gently strokes me. I buck my hips up, trying to get more friction.

"Needy," Alex teases.

"Fuck, baby, god, you have no idea," I laugh breathlessly.

Alex takes a deep breath and moves forward, positioning himself over my tip. I bite my lip and close my eyes as he slowly lowers himself onto me. I can't believe it, I'm about to lose my virginity to the guy I've been in love with forever.

My eyes shoot open when Alex cries out. "Are you good?"

Alex has a tear running down his face, his eyes are closed tightly, and he's currently all the way down. "Yeah, yeah I'm good."

"Alex, baby, you don't, if it hurts too much-"

He cuts me off by grinding on me, hard. A loud moan escapes my mouth. I place my hands over his, which currently reside on my chest, and let him ride me. Holy fuck, he's so tight. I can't believe how much I've been missing out on. Herc is right, sex is fucking amazing.

"Aye! Papi!" Alex moans, his Caribbean accent shining through. He drags his nails down my chest, scratching me. I love it when he does that.

"Mm, fuck," I groan as he begins bouncing as a much steadier beat. I move my hips with it a bit more and watch as his face goes from a look of pain to a look of pleasure.

"Oh, Papi eres tan jodidamente grande! A la mierda sientes tan bien!" Alex screams. He leans down and kisses me, still riding and grinding on me. I let out a long moan and reach my hand down so I can jerk him off. He moans loudly as precum drips down and into my hand, making his dick wet and easier to rub.

"Ah! Baby girl! Just like that! Fuck!" I groan, smacking his thighs.

"Ah! Mierda!" Alex moans, leaning back so I hit the same spot every time he bounces. "Estoy cerca! I'm close! Fuck Papi!"

I move my hand faster and suddenly he's coming all over my chest and stomach, he slows down, much to my dismay. I haven't come yet, but I have a right hand if he doesn't want to go anymore.

"Don't think I'm just gonna let you lie there in agony," Alex says as he slides off of my dick. He sits between my legs and then pulls the condom off, before taking my cock in his mouth. I gasp and grab his hair, pulling him down on my dick. He gags but keeps sucking. I was right, he is really good at blowjobs.

"Fuck Alex, I'm almost there, fuck," I grunt, pulling his hair. He whines, sending vibrations through my lower area, which does finally push me over the edge. I come down his throat, listening to him choke and grunt as he swallows.

"That was," Alex trails off, looking up at me.

"Wow," I say. I look down at the come on my chest, chuckling. "I think I need a towel."

Alex shakes his head and then begins licking me clean. I moan a little because it is hot. He's like a kitty.

"Thank you," I mumble, blushing as he finally cuddles up to me.

"No, John, thank you," Alex laughs, hugging me.

"I love you," I tell him, looking into his eyes.

"I, I love you too," Alex replies.

I plant a long kiss on his lips and then laugh. "You learned how to give a blow job from Laf, didn't you?"

Alex smiles and bites his lip. "Maybe."

I sigh happily. "Let's face it, our sex life would be a mess without those two."

Alex chuckles and gently bites my neck. "I think we'd be able to figure it out, we would just watch some porn together."

I roll on my side so I can face him. "In August, did you think that before the year is out, we'd fuck?"

Alex blushes and giggles. "In August, I didn't even think I'd make it to the end of the year. I thought I would have a heart attack or something from all the caffeine I've been drinking. So no, this definitely was not on the radar."

I sigh and brush some hair off his cheek. "I want to marry you, Alexander Hamilton."

Alex laughs. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

I lean in and kiss him. "I wasn't planning on it."

"There, right there! Look at that tan well-tinted skin! Look at the tailored shape he's in! Look at that slightly stubbly chin! Oh please, he's gay, totally gay!" Sings someone's phone.

"Shit, sorry, Laf is calling," Alex mumbles.

"That song is perfect for him," I laugh as I stare at Alex's ass while he pulls his phone from the pocket of his pants.

"Hey Laffy Taffy," Alex says, putting the phone on speaker so I can hear.

"Guys, are you finished fucking each other?" Laf groans, still drunk.

"Why do you ask?" Alex questions, giving me a look that says 'how did they know we were fucking?'

"Because there are thirty minutes left in this year and I want to get a good spot in the backyard with my friends so we can watch the fireworks! Come on you assholes!" Laf yells then hangs up.

"I asked Herc for the condom," I state.

"Man, they really know a lot about us," Alex mumbles.

I laugh. "Come on, let's go join our friends for New Years."

Both Alex and I get dressed again, me stopping for a moment to tease Alex for his noticeable limp, then we walk downstairs to find the rest of our group. We find Laf and Herc, as well as the Schuyler's, standing by the back door, talking and laughing. It's a lot quieter back here due to the fact that it's a few rooms away from where the music is playing. It's nice to know that I'm not going to have to yell over a song about titty fucking a stripper.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Eliza smirks, crossing her arms.

"Laf you told me it would hurt but like, Jesus. You didn't tell me I'd be sore afterward," Alex grumbles.

"I told you they were fucking!" Peggy yells loudly.

"And none of us disagreed with you Cocktail," Angie says.

"I don't want anything about me to have a cock in it, including nicknames," Peggy jokes, pushing Angie a bit.

"How was it?" Asks Herc, raising his eyebrows.

I laugh and hug Alex close to my body. "It was great. We were in a gaming room on the floor. Neither of us was drunk and Alex spoke a lot of Spanish."

"John, baby, you gotta learn Spanish so you know what he's saying," Eliza says, winking at me. "I'm doing it so I know what Maria is saying in German."

"You and Maria fucked?" Alex asks, gasping.

Eliza sighs and shakes her head. "Not yet, but German is her first tongue so I figure I should learn it anyway."

"Hey, guys, what are your resolutions?" Herc asks.

We all think for a moment, realizing that we didn't remember to make any.

"I wanna focus more on my grades instead of partying," Angelica pipes up.

"I want to get the guts to ask Maria out," Eliza states.

Peggy's face lights up. "I want to focus more on my writing, get a job at a publishing company maybe."

I decide to chime in at this point. "Punch more nazi's."

"Punch those Nazi's!" Laf cheers. "I want to settle down a bit, get into a routine with my schoolwork, stop using my phone so much."

Herc smiles and kisses Laf's forehead. "I'm gonna focus on my design more, start sewing more as well, which will be easier thanks to the sewing machine miss Eliza Schuyler bought me for Christmas."

"Okay Alex, what's your resolution?" I ask.

Alex leans against me and smiles. "I think I'm perfect enough, but I guess focus more on school and studying."

I groan loudly. "You're not going to sleep this semester, are you?"

Alex kisses my cheek. "I close my eyes when I sneeze."

"Hey come on, five more minutes in the year, let's go outside," Laf states.

"But it's cold!" Alex whines.

"It is really cold, and we don't have jackets," I admit. I may not be as weak to the cold as Alex, but I'm certainly not in the mood to stand outside "Alex and I will watch from the kitchen. You guys have fun."

"Boo, you whore," Angelica says as she walks outside with many other people. It occurs to me that Alex and I are the only people in the house who are conscious. So, I happily pull Alex towards me so his back is against my chest, looking out the glass door. I hum lightly to the song that's playing and sway with Alex. I place my hands on his hips and Alex places his hands over mine. My chin rests on his shoulder and we watch the people outside.

"Hey," I whisper as we get into the final few minutes.

"Yeah?" Alex replies.

"I love you," I mumble, kissing his neck gently.

Alex chuckles and leans against me. "I love you too."

"One more minute." I pull him closer.

Alex turns around so he can look at me. "Any confessions?"

Every New Year's Alex and I confess things. Usually in the last minute or so. We've confessed some wild things. I learned that Alex once jerked off to pictures of Jamie Foxx, I learned that Alex watched not only all of My Little Pony but Barbie: Life In The Dreamhouse too. I confessed to Alex that I ate an entire loaf of bread in one night because I also had a jar of peanut butter, as well as the fact that I did steal his sweater and get a paint stain on it.

"I jerked off to you in the shower after Halloween. You ground on me the night before though so don't laugh," I say quickly.

"I had a wet dream about you while you were lying right next to me," Alex retorts.

"I listened to you have that wet dream and it made me hard." A blush rises to my cheeks. "Also over the summer I had a wet dream about you and that's what I was talking about when I was drunk."

"God we both just got really horny for each other this year," Alex laughs.

Suddenly, the people outside start chanting. "Ten! Nine!"

Alex places his hands on my cheeks.

"Eight!"

I put my hands on his hips and pull him closer.

"Seven!"

Alex smiles dreamily at me, curling a bit of my hair in his finger.

"Six!"

I sigh, looking at him.

"Five!"

"I love you," Alex mumbles, biting his lip.

"Four!"

"I love you too, baby girl," I reply, a small chuckle escaping my chest.

"Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

Alex and I kiss. Our first New Year's kiss together. Every other New Year's we just embrace as we watch the city fireworks from the roof of my house, but now, here we are, in New York, watching the fireworks go off. I'm here with the man I love, and god, this night couldn't have been more perfect. In many ways, I hope it never ends. We watch people party and drink and make out while the fireworks go off, we let the waves of euphoria hit us, and at that moment, we are one.

Around three, our drunk group of friends makes their way home, Alex and I with them. Since Eliza won't stop crying about how much she loves us, we all end up crashing in the living room while That 70s Show plays in the background. Alex is cuddled into my side while Eliza lies with her head on my stomach, and Peggy lies with her head on Alex's thigh.

A thought comes to my head and my heart speeds up, not out of worry though, but out of love. Right now, I'm surrounded by people who love me, who love Alex, who love each other. I'm surrounded by people who would take me in no matter what. I'm surrounded by my family. So it's easy to drift off to sleep with that thought in my head.


	24. In this house we love and respect John Laurens' thighs

/Alex/

"Herc! I don't know how to work this!" I yell as I look at the outfit he's laid out for me. It's exactly like how he described it, except the only problem is, I don't know how sock guards work, or how I'm supposed to do this in general. Herc has gathered John, James, Laf, a few more of his friends, as well as me at nine in the morning to do a photo shoot. Well, we all got here at eight, but it took about an hour to get makeup done and to provide everyone with the correct outfit. Herc claimed that he wanted to do this early so no one would eat anything and bloat up their stomach before the shoot, but honestly, I'm already hungry.

"Alex, just put on the high waisted underwear and then I'll come in and help you!" Herc yells back, his mouth sounded a bit full. It probably is knowing him. When he's in design mode he always has something between his teeth; a needle, a safety pin, a small spool of thread, a makeup brush if he needs it. Laf did everyone's makeup since he was good at that. I've never had a winged eyeliner, or even eyeshadow on, but Laf says it makes me look sexy. He's the expert so I trust him.

"Okay! It's on! Help!" I call out after slipping the pine green silk high waisted booty shorts, trimmed with black lace.

Herc comes in and hands me the black thigh highs. "Okay, put these on and pull them up. There's a very specific direction to do it but I know you can tell. I'll help you with the garter and then all that's left is the robe."

I nod and slip them on, then watch as Herc gets on his knees in front of me to attach the first two garters to my front. I've never had anyone touch this close to my crotch either than John, so I find myself feeling a little shy, especially when Herc turns me around and begins attaching the garter to the back of me, his hands touching my butt a lot.

"Do you or Laf ever get weirded out by how up close you get with people's bodies?" I ask out loud, hoping some conversation will distract me.

"Nah," Herc replies, moving to attach the last garter. "My first love is fashion, and Laf knows that. Besides, it's not like I'm fingering the models, I'm just adjusting their clothes. I do get up close with people's bodies and believe me, it's gotten pretty wild. Back in France I was helping out with a friend who was making a line of lingerie and I had to adjust some crotchless panties while they were on the model, but it has always been just business to me. Laf doesn't care either because he knows it's my passion. He knows it's what I love." Herc stands up and grabs the short pine green silk robe, trimmed with black lace, and then helps me into it. "I can make a really good living out of this, and I already am. And besides, a body is just a body. It's nothing I haven't seen before."

I nod, slipping on the black lace gloves Herc gives to me. "That's a very mature take on it. I can see your point."

Herc nods and smiles. "Now come on, come to take a look at your boyfriend."

I walk out of the small curtained room Herc set up for me and I'm shocked. Standing there, talking to James Madison, who has been decked out in revealing black lace, is John fucking Laurens. I'm shocked for a moment. His legs are shaved, something I thankfully didn't have to do, and they are open and shown off to anyone who looks this way. Covering his butt is a dusty rose colored lace pair of panties, fitting him flawlessly. They have garters on the top of them, attached to an almost corset like this that just goes around his waist, not covering his chest at all. His freckles on his back and butt and open, and his muscles, oh my god his muscles. I better stop looking before it becomes a bit too obvious how much I like John's outfit.

"Alex, baby," James teases, giggling. "Close your mouth, you're gonna catch flies."

John turns around and he seems to have the same reaction to me that I had to him. "Holy fucking shit, Alex, I could fuck you where you stand."

"Ah! Hey! Don't get jizz on this stuff yet! Just make it through the shoot please!" Herc yells as he adjusts something on Laf's outfit, which is very revealing and almost kinky.

"Don't be silly, John. I look ridiculous," I mumble, staring down at my the chub I have on my stomach and legs.

"Holy fuck, you look beautiful," John mumbles, coming over and taking my face in his hands. "So. Fucking. Gorgeous."

"John if you smudge Alex's contour I'm gonna bite your dick off!" Laf threatens.

"I'm reassuring my boyfriend! Let me have this!" John shoots back. He looks at me and kisses me gently. "You're so pretty."

I groan and smile, placing my hands on John's hips. "As are you."

"Guys, meet some of my designer friends who agreed to model as well." Herc gestures to a short latino looking guy who wears white lace lingerie. "This is Austin Roe, one of the greatest embroiderers you will ever meet, hand stitches a lot of stuff and does it beautifully." Herc gestures to a tall and skinny Asian guy wearing blood red silk underwear and nothing else. "Nathan Hale. Not too much of a designer but a number one model. Huge francophile too so he and Laf get along splendid." Herc points to the last guy, a sort of chubby curly haired boy who looked Puerto Rican, wearing a pale yellow corset and some tight pale yellow spandex booty shorts. "Benjamin 'Benny' Tallmadge. A childhood friend who owes me a favor."

"Hey! It's another Puerto Rican!" Benny says, pointing at my John. "Thank god, I like seeing my people."

Herc introduces James, John and I, then begins talking. "Okay, first of all, we owe a big thanks to the Schuyler sisters who are sitting out in the room we're shooting in. This is their house and they graciously lent me the photographic material as well as helped set up the shoot, so make sure to show them lots of love. We're going to do a couple of group photo's first because the couch is out there right now, and then we're going to do the single and couple photos. Now, remember, I know how much you guys like to goof off and be funny." Herc eyes Benny. "But this is for my grade so please be as serious as possible. Also, do not eat or drink anything besides the snacks and drinks that have been laid out for you for the majority of this shoot. I know it's not a lot and I know I asked you not to eat before we came here, but as much as I hate body shaming, I would like your stomach to be not bloated because it gets very obvious at parts and it's hard to edit out. If your makeup gets smudged do not go to me about it, I would make it worse, go to Laf or one of the Schuyler sisters, they know what they're doing. Are there any questions?" Herc looks over all of us, who don't seem to have questions. "Wonderful. Let's get crackalackin."

The Schuyler's living room has been transformed. Instead of the regular lilac color, there is a large white canvas that not only covers the entire wall but a good amount of the floor too. Set up and facing it are some very professional looking photography things that I have never learned the name of. Right now, there is a very vintage antique looking couch in front of the wall, positioned very straight and meaningfully. The Schuyler sisters are sitting on their sectional in the back where the white canvas isn't, talking and sipping wine. It looks very professional, which makes me feel really proud of Hercules. He's doing what he loves.

The group photos are fun. Herc positions all of us on the couch or near it. I like the group photos a lot because John is sitting on the couch while I'm sitting on the floor between his legs, 'looking sexy' as Herc put it. John is leaning forward, one hand on my chest and the other in his hair. James is right next to me, and it makes me happy to see how his body has filled out a little more, making him look like an actual human now and not just a skeleton.

Herc's friends go first for the single photos, so John sits on the couch to talk to Eliza, while I sit on John's lap. Peggy is in charge of taking behind the scenes photos since she's majoring in photography, so she gets a couple candid shots of John and I. John asks for a copy of one she got where I was laughing, my forehead against John's shoulder. That made me blush but when Peggy showed the photo to us, I realized how pretty it was.

"Alex, on a scale of one to ten, how flexible are you?" Herc asks.

"Zero," I reply, knowing the only yoga position I can do is the one where you lie on the floor and nap. "But John's really flexible. He does that yoga bullshit."

Herc smiles. "Wonderful. John, get your cute butt up here. Alex, stay limber I'm gonna call you up in a few minutes."

I laugh and take John's place on the couch while he walks up to the canvased area, posing like Herc wants him to. I shiver a bit so I grab one of the soft blankets Herc laid out for his scantily clad friends, knowing that some of us might get cold.

"It's he the coolest?" Laf sighs dreamily, sitting on the floor and leaning against the couch.

"Who? Herc?" Eliza asks.

Laf sighs again. "Yeah. He's so wonderful I just don't even know what I'd do without him. Like, what kind of college kid can organize something like this? And did you see the way he was talking earlier? How firm and authoritative he was? Ugh, he's so perfect."

"Sounds like Laf is in love," Peggy teases as she snaps a picture of him and me.

"And the sky is blue and Elton John is gay, yes Pegs, these are well-known facts," Eliza points out, chuckling.

"If you love Herc so much, then why don't you marry him?" Peggy teases childishly, ignoring her sister's banter.

"Believe me," Laf mumbles. "I plan on it. Herc says he doesn't want to marry me until he's twenty-five, and he definitely doesn't want to marry me while I'm still a teenager."

"Oh yeah, isn't Herc like twenty-one?" Peggy asks, snapping a picture of James and Austin talking. Thomas couldn't make it here today due to a family matter he had to take care of. James said he had to fly down to see his sister's wedding.

"Twenty-two actually," Laf states, smiling.

"Laf, when do you turn twenty?" I ask, sitting back.

"September, baby. I'm ready for it too. I finally won't be a teen and Herc won't be able to tease me by saying 'teenagers these days' whenever I do literally anything," Laf jokes.

"Whatever you do, do not tell John about those jokes because I know for a fact he will use them on me for a couple of months he is twenty and I am nineteen.

"When is your birthday?" Peggy asks, sitting on the floor.

I shake my head. "We don't celebrate my birthday. I don't like it, I don't want to acknowledge it, I don't want to bring attention to it. John is the only one who knows it and not even he does anything for it because he knows I hate it so much. I'll tell you when I'm nineteen at a random point during this year, and that's how you'll know."

"Damn Alex, why you be hatin' your birthday so much?" Peggy asks.

"Alex! Come on! I need you to pose with your boyfriend!" Herc calls out, thankfully saving me from answering the question.

I stand up and walk over to where John is on the floor. "What do you need me to do?"

"Okay, I need you to lie across John's lap on your stomach, like he's about to spank you," Herc explains.

"Wow, at least by me dinner first," I joke, lying across his lap.

"My dick was in your mouth two hours ago," John states, laughing.

"Okay, serious face guys, Alex you're the last one I need to shoot and then we're done," Herc states. "Place your chin on your hand and look towards me, John, I'm gonna need your hand on his ass." Herc snaps a few photos and then gestures for us to stand. "John, I need you to stand behind Alex. I'm gonna need you to have one hand on his chest and the other on his lower stomach, kiss his neck or something. Alex, give me a sexy face."

John kisses my neck and I let out a small moan, biting my lip.

"Alex! That's perfect! John, whatever you're doing, keep doing it," Herc says as he starts taking photos.

John keeps kissing my neck and I try to hold back moans as I bite my lip for a few minutes. Thankfully, Herc positions us differently so I'm on my knees in front of John, one hand on his thigh and the other on his stomach. Herc is really taking some soft porn photos but it is for a lingerie shoot, so I guess he can't exactly pose us having a tea party.

Finally, Herc directs John to leave and it's just me. Herc directs the poses I need to do, having me on the floor one second, then standing another, and then sitting. It's really cool though to see how into this he gets, plus, it's amazing to think that the thing I'm wearing right now is something Herc made and put time into.

"Okay!" Herc exclaims. "That's a wrap! Thank you guys so much! There's real food in the kitchen for after you change!"

I stand up off the floor and walk over to John, smiling. "Was I pretty?"

John smiles and kisses me. "So pretty."

I laugh. "I love you."

"Love you too," John replies as we walk into the changing room.

Peggy is still snapping behind the scene photos as we all remove our makeup and take down our hair. She even snaps a few of all of us after we're dressed again in our normal daytime clothes. She really is a good photographer.

"Hey, Alex, the Schuyler's live near a really good Italian place, do you wanna go get lunch?" John asks.

I groan loudly and nod. "Fuck yes, I'm so goddamn hungry right now. I could never be a model. I don't know how they do it."

John smiles and waves over Herc, who is currently focusing on his laptop with Peggy while the other models eat and talk. "Hey man, Alex and I are gonna go out and get lunch, we'll be back in a few hours, okay?"

Herc nods. "Cool. You guys did really good, I'll send you your photos when I finish editing and stuff like that."

"Thanks, man," John nods. He and I walk to the door and slip our shoes and jackets on, then step outside and begin to walk.

"You looked very pretty," John comments. "You still do. I don't know how you do it."

I laugh and lean against John. "It's just my wonderful genes and my Caribbean heritance. Face it, you're dating a god."

John chuckles and wraps his arm around my waist. "God, I love you."

I sigh as we turn onto another street, nearing the Italian place John is talking about. "Did you really mean what you said on New Year's?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "I said a lot of things on New Year's, babe. I'm gonna need you to dig into that beautiful brain of yours and find some more descriptive words. What exactly did I say?"

"You said you want to marry me," I clarify.

"Oh, yeah I meant that. Why?" John asks casually as if he were asking the time of day.

I shrug, looking down to hide the large smile and blush on my face. "I dunno, just wondering, I guess."

"You know," John starts, "I can tell when you're smiling and talking. Your voice goes up an octave and your words almost slur together."

I push him a bit, laughing. "Stop exposing me like this, Johnathan."

"Oh yeah? Whatcha gonna do? Hm?" He taunts as we approach the restaurant.

"I'll marry you, that's what I'll do. Then you'll be sorry," I joke.

We walk inside and John walks up to the front desk. "Reservation for Mr. and Mr. Hamilton?"

"Ah, yes," the waiter says slowly.

"Wait, did you like, make a reservation? Hold on, I have so many questions," I start, stuttering as we follow the waiter to the table.

"We'll be out to take your drink order in a moment, sirs," the waiter tells us as we sit down. He places our menus down and walks away quickly.

"I'm going to order a virgin strawberry daiquiri, and you want a..." He pauses, thinking. "It's not dinner, so a pina colada is out of the question, a mimosa is as well, we're at a public place so you can't get alcohol, so wine is out of the question, so a cherry Shirley Temple it is, right? Am I right?"

I nod, laughing. "Yes, yes you are."

The waiter comes and takes our orders, then leaves us to decide what food we want to get, letting us have the conversation.

"You set a reservation?" I ask, my eyes scanning the menu.

John nods. "Yes, love, I thought we'd have a lunch date."

"You set the reservation under Mr. and Mr. Hamilton, which means both of us to have the last name of Hamilton according to them," I state.

John shrugs. "I'd much rather be a Hamilton than a Laurens."

"You're so fucking gay," I snort, looking around. I realize just how underdressed the two of us are. John in his khaki joggers and a white tee shirt, and me in my old blue jeans and my hoodie, while everyone else is wearing at least a dress shirt and tie, or a pants suit or dress.

"Well I would hope so, you are my husband after all," John states, winking. "I think I'm going to get the vegetarian lasagne."

"Is my John becoming a vegetarian?" I ask, laughing as I eye the mushroom ravioli.

He shrugs. "It's really healthy and I have been learning a lot about animal abuse in the food industry, I thought I'd give it a try. And besides, there are plenty of ways to get protein as a vegetarian, so I don't have to worry about losing my beautiful muscles."

I snort. "You're so weird. I'm getting the cheese ravioli because I like ravioli."

We both close our menus and soon enough our waiter is back and taking our order. We both tell him our drinks and our food and wait for a second to continue talking so he's out of earshot. John and I don't like other people listening in n our conversations, we never have. It's a weird thing, but we usually find ourselves lowering our voices in public places.

"So, what made Johnathan Laurens decide to take me on a date?" I ask, smiling as I place my hand on the table to hold his.

"Well," John starts, "I just thought that since I love you so much, I outta take you out and show the world."

I giggle as our drinks get set down. "John, you flatter me."

The date goes by, John and I smiling and laughing, talking about little things, talking about the show and the lingerie and seriously discussing if we can fit buying lingerie from Herc in our monthly budget, then we discuss if we could fit it into next month's budget. Finally though, around two, we make our way back to the Schuyler's place, our stomachs full and our smiles large. Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy are watching Top Model in the next room, Herc and Laf are looking at photos and quietly discussing things, so John and I decide to go upstairs and take a food coma induced nap, happily holding each other, soaking up how good today way.


	25. James is such a sick boy and Thomas??? Has?? Emotions???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yell at me

/Alex/

John decided to take a Saturday class with professor Trumbull, as well as a few more of his art class friends, like Hercules, leaving me to feel bored and alone. So, while he most likely hangs out with our friends and does art, I'm stuck at home studying and feel bored. I do miss him, and I had hoped that we might've done some fooling around today, but he wanted to go do art, so who am I to stop him? Besides, I'm gonna support him focusing on his class, the school has only been back in a week and he still has energy and focus, so I'm proud of him.

Class has only been back in a week but you can feel how high the energy in the campus is right now. People are coming back with more money, more food, and more happiness than they left with. Hercules has been doing a lot of sewing and he's getting a job at a tailoring place. Laf has taken on a new aesthetic of life and has decided his new theme is outer space, so he's been painting little gold stars in his cheeks in the morning. Angelica cornrowed her hair, and she looks really good with it. Eliza and Maria have set a date for when Maria is going to leave James too. Even Jefferson and Madison have been looking into couples therapy just to deal with bottled emotions and stuff like that.

"I wanna see John's art," I whine to myself, sipping my water bottle. "You know what? Fuck this. I'm gonna get him a muffin and visit him."

I get up and slip on some jeans and a hoodie, then exit my dorm. Smoke leaks from under the door of Laf's room, so I decide not to bother him. Instead, I make my way to the campus cafe and buy John a blueberry muffin and a protein bar, then head to his art class. He still hasn't shown me anything he's done in his class, but he claims he just hasn't had time to take it home. I'm really itching to see it though, so I figure a bit of a surprise visit won't hurt.

I get to the class and open the door. The front is on the other side, so the only person who sees me enter is professor Trumbull, but I just hold up the muffin and he nods. I scan the class, seeing some weird paintings, and then finally spotting on, standing in some blue overalls and a white tee shirt. His hair is up in a bun and he's staring at a canvas next to Herc. I walk a bit closer to try and hear their conversation, as well as see the painting.

"Oh my god, you, you're the muse," some girl says, staring at me.

I give her a look, but then she points to the walls. I follow her finger, looking up. I see a few different paintings in different styles, and then I see my face. On different canvases, in different spots. Paintings of me doing casual things, paintings of me with a background of stars. Hell, even one where I'm covered in hickeys.

"I like it, John, you're overthinking," I hear Herc say.

"No, Herc, I'm not worried if you like it, I'm worried if Alex will like it. I painted him like this, but I don't know if he wants this part of him to be shown, you know?" John mumbles, pushing his paintbrush behind his ear.

I step closer so I can see, finally catching both John and Herc's eye. John jumps, his face revealing the shock, and suddenly I can see the painting. It's of me, of course, but, a lot of me. I have a small smile on my face. I have my wrists extended, but instead of the little white scars that are usually there, there are flowers. Same with my stomach. Instead of the deep pink scars from the tree in the hurricane, there are more flowers. Same with the inside of my thighs, more flowers. The small scar on my forehead also has flowers growing out of it. It's so, so different. I can't help but run my hand across my wrist, then my forehead, seeing if they really do have flowers.

"Alex, I, um, this is just a free time project," John stutters, ringing his hands together.

I turn to him and kiss him. He obviously doesn't expect it, but instantly returns the kiss, wrapping his arms around my waist. I can't help but kiss him, I just want to show him that I love him, prove to him that he means the world to me. I want him to know how much his art means, how much this piece means. I just, I want him to know I love him, and this seems like the best way to do so.

"I love it," I mumble against his lips. "I love you."

John sighs, hugging me closer. "I love you too, my muse."

"I told you! I told you his muse was real!" Someone shouts.

"Leave them alone! They're having a moment!" Herc shoots back. He then looks to me, smiling. "You're kinda famous here, Alex."

I look at John, raising my eyebrow. "Hm, now I wonder why that would be."

John's cheeks darken and he bites his lip. "Well, I do kinda have a slight obsession with painting you, but you decided to be so paintable, so it's not my fault."

I laugh and look around, finding my face on the wall in several places. "So, is this why you would never bring art home?"

John chuckled. "This is just the stuff I've painted. I have an art portfolio full of sketches, collages, among other types of art. Yes, I've drawn other things, but I favor drawing you."

Herc laughs. "Favour? It's more like you're fucking obsessed with it. It's like, you can't help but draw him, even when you try to draw something else, it's like, you just accidentally draw Alex. It's a disease to you."

I chuckle. "Okay, well I'm getting the stink eye from Trumbull so I should probably go. Here, take your muffin and protein bar. Um, Laf was smoking weed when I left and if I know him he's still smoking it, so I'm gonna go do that with him, but just enough to mellow me out a bit, you know?"

John nods and laughs. "Okay, we'll be done in a few more hours. Love you, baby."

I smile and give him a quick peck on the lips. "Love you too. See you soon."

I walk out of the classroom, smiling and blushing like an idiot. I do truly love John. Jesus, sometimes it's hard to imagine what it would've been like if I hadn't done anything that night if I had just thrown away my shot. Would we even be this close now? Or would the both of us still be agonizing over the other, trying to get as close as we can without getting burned? I don't think I would have half the sanity I do if that were still the case.

I see Jefferson and Madison walking through the courtyard, so I wave them over. "Hey! Laf, he's um, he's currently hotboxing his room up and I was gonna go hang and just get a little buzzed, would you care to join us?"

Jefferson nods, pulling Madison closer to him. "Fuck yeah. My little majesty? Are you down?"

James blushes at the comment and we continue walking to Laf's dorm, but not before we spot Angelica, Eliza and Peggy. Angelica is going off on a white girl while Peggy and Eliza stand behind her, looking sassy and ready to bite. Jefferson, Madison, and I walk a little closer so we can hear what Angelica is saying. She looks really passionate and the girl she's going off on looks almost scared, but also just annoyed at the same time. I've heard Angelica argue in class before, and she always gets so passionate and she's so intelligent with her words that you can't help but listen. Sometimes people call her the female version of me with self-control.

"No!" Angelica says, her voice loud and strong. "You can't touch my fucking hair! You ain't got no manners! Oh my god! Do not ask me or any black or brown woman if our hair is real or not. If it's a wig, a weave, extensions, braids, don't fuckin ask. It's fucking rude, it's extremely personal to be put on the spot like that. How we chose to wear out hair is a personal choice, okay? We bought it, we grew it, it's ours, so have some manners and keep your curiosity to yourself!"

"Fuck yeah, Angie!" Thomas yells, pumping his fist.

"Get those white bitches!" I hoot.

Angie smirks and the girl walks off, probably embarrassed but hopefully with some new knowledge on how fucking rude it is to ask black or brown people about their hair. It would happen to John sometimes and he looked as if he literally would rather be shot in the head than let this person touch their hair.

"Ladies, I'm headed to smoke with Laf and these guys, any of y'all care to join?" Jefferson asks, smiling as James leans into him.

"I'll join you guys," Peggy says, smiling.

"Eliza and I are gonna go back to the dorm, see you soon Pegs," Angelica says. We wave goodbye and continue our way to Laf's dorm. Peggy explains that this random white girl came up to Angelica and not only asked if her hair was real but started touching it without permission. And apparently, this is one of Angelica's pet peeves, and when people touch her hair without asking she can't help but tell them off.

"Hold up a second, guys," James says, stopping. He leans over, putting his hands on his knees, then bursts into a coughing fit. It sounds like he's going to cough up his lung. Thomas looks far beyond concerned as he rubs James' back. James thumps his chest a few times and then stands back up again, smiling. "I'm fine, guys. Let's go."

"James, baby, use your inhaler, pleaser," Thomas requests.

James rolls his eyes softly and places the inhaler to his lips, taking a hit. "I'm fine, I promise you."

Thomas sighs as we start walking again. "I know, I know. I just worry about you sometimes, as a good boyfriend must."

We get to Laf's dorm and knock a couple of times. He opens it, smoke pluming out into the hall, filling our noses with the scent of cigarettes and weed. I can see a girl named Adrienne, who Laf had talked about and showed pictures of, in the room, a cigarette hanging from her plump lips. She's thick, large breasts and wide hips. Her skin is perfectly smooth, even though it's obvious she's not wearing any makeup, besides some red lip gloss, staining her cigarette. Her hair falls in elegant curls over her shoulders, her eyes are a green mysterious color, her body is flawless, she looks like an angel.

"Merde, I should've known that smoking inside the dorm would cause a cluster fuck of people coming to my place. Come in, come in. We have cigarettes and pot," Laf says, swaying a bit. "The woman is my friend Adrienne. She's a friend from France. Come for a visit."

"Fuck, I could kill a man twice over for a cigarette right now," I mumble, walking inside and locating a pack. I try to keep my eyes off of Adrienne but it's difficult because she is just really fucking pretty. The way she sprawls across the floor, the way she looks at everyone as if she knows something about them. She's wearing a red silk sleeping gown, one of the straps falling over her shoulders.

"I thought you were quitting?" Jefferson asks, finding a seat on the floor and pulling James to sit between his legs.

"What John doesn't know won't kill him," I mumble, lighting a cigarette up and taking a long hit. "You want one, Jeffy?"

Thomas laughs and holds out his hand. "Fuck yeah I do, my brother."

"You both are going to get lung cancer and die," states James bluntly, taking a hit off of his inhaler.

I laugh as I blow smoke out of my nose. "I cheated death and then he asked for a divorce. I can't die, Jemmy James, it's just not my style. And besides, I got too much shit to do, I can't die just yet."

Laf laughs as he throws his arm around the plump-lipped girl with curly red hair and fair skin. "You guys are so fucking weird. I don't know why I'm friends with you."

"Oh baby, you're just trying to find someone in America who's as good as me," Adrienne smiles, taking a long drag from a cigarette. "But, of course, you're failing at it. I'm just too beautiful and wonderful for someone to replicate."

"Damn Laf, where'd you pick up this piece of ass?" Jefferson jokes, smoke coming out of his mouth. "She has a bigger ego than me, and that's saying something."

"Laf and I worked together. I was a hooker and he was a stripper, we were often times hanging out. Laf would sometimes live with me, and I would sometimes live with him, and sometimes we would just sleep on the streets together, or walk around. Laf and I fell in love on those city streets," Adrienne says, her voice like honey.

"Did you guys date?" James asks slowly.

Adrienne laughs as Laf gently blows smoke on her. "No, no, we did not. We have kissed on several occasions, but only for the aesthetic of it. We both are incredibly elegant people so our friendship works out very well. Laf is a deep sea blue, I am a maroon, we fit, like the puzzle pieces. Laf needs a French friend, you Americans would ruin him."

"I think I love you," I say, my voice quiet.

Adrienne smiles. "I'm a ride that's too wild for you, my sweet boy. I would break you."

My eyes widen. "I don't doubt that."

"Watch out, John! Adrienne is coming for your man!" Laf yells, laughing.

"She is not! I love my John and I stay loyal to him. I just think your friend is a fucking siren or some shit. She's like, so fucking pleasing to look at," I state, leaning against Peggy, who is smoking a blunt, as I take another hit.

Adrienne laughs. "You Americans are so sweet sometimes. Laf, I understand why you live here."

Laf smiles and blushes. "It's mostly just for my American."

Adrienne laughs, smoke coming out of her nose. "It was so wonderful. Lafayette and Hercules fell in love and every night Laf would come into work, humming whatever American song Herc sang that day. They were so in love. Laf would tape up little polaroid photos of Herc on his vanity, come in wearing cute outfits and squeal about how Herc picked them out for him. He was truly in love with the man. Of course, at the time, I thought Herc was a minor as well so I don't think I would've encouraged them to fuck as much, but I once saw them on a date." She takes another hit of her cigarette. "They were so beautiful. Herc was holding Laf and they were swaying as they listened to a violin player on the street. That's when I knew Herc was truly in love with my sweet Lafayette."

"Aw, Laf, you and Herc are so cute," Thomas compliments, gently running his hand over James' hair. "You are the loving gays, and John and Alex are like, the disaster gays."

I smack Jefferson's arm. "Eat my dick, John and I are the wonderful gays."

James coughs. "Guys, I need to step outside for a second I think. The smoke is getting to me. I need some fresh air."

I stand up and help him up. "I'll go with you. I need to air myself out a bit anyway."

"Thanks, man," James mumbles, his throat scratchy. We step outside and close the door. James instantly leans over and starts coughing. I rub his back gently as he lets dry coughs escape his throat. Suddenly, the cough becomes wet, and for a second, it sounds like he's choking, then the hall goes quiet.

"James, are you okay?" I ask, bending over a bit to try to get a better look at him. He's staring into his hand, blood dripping from his lips. I jump, shock running through my body. James starts coughing again and more blood comes out of his mouth, dripping onto the carpet. He stumbles back into the wall, blood dripping through his fingers. His dark brown eyes look up at me, terrified.

"Alexander, I, I don't feel so well," he lets out hoarsely.

"Thomas! Get out here!" I yell, instantly placing my hands against his as if that will help the bleeding stop. Instead, it just covers my hands in blood and stains my sweater sleeves. I keep my hands over his hands though, trying at least offer comfort. James coughs up more blood into our hands.

"James! Are you okay?" Thomas asks, bursting through the door. He sees the blood and his eyes widen. "Fuck! Okay, Alex, call an ambulance. James, James, baby look at me. We're going to get you to a hospital but we need you to stay awake. I want you to listen to my voice, keep listening."

I call an ambulance to our place and then we begin our trek to the parking lot. James has an arm around me and an arm around Thomas. He's limping, his eyes are half closed. Thomas and I are walking as fast as we can with him, but it's difficult since he's subtly becoming more and limper.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I mumble as we finally make it out of the dorm.

"We're not going to get there quick enough," Jefferson frets.

"Come on, we've got to hurry," I say as we continue walking, basically holding James up at this point. We hear sirens coming towards us just as we enter the parking lot, so thankfully paramedics are on the scene right as we get there. Both Thomas, James, and I are loaded into the ambulance. I don't really know what to do, so I just sit there, but it seems like Thomas has done this a thousand times.

"What are his medical conditions?" An EMT asks as they begin to cut into James' side to suck the blood out I guess.

"Bronchitis, asthma, COPD, immunodeficiency, and he's lactose intolerant. He's allergic to penicillin, peanuts, and cats but not so allergic to cats that it really affects him. He has weak knees and insomnia. He takes guaifenesin, salmeterol, interferon, codeine, buspirone, and mirtazapine. He likes rooms with windows because he gets panic attacks if there isn't one. He hates canned fruit but he likes whole apples. He's underweight but he's gaining. His full name is James Madison and he's five foot four and one hundred and four pounds." Thomas stops for a second, thinking. "I think that's it. Do you need anything else?"

The EMT shakes his head. "No, we got more than enough, actually. Do you do this often? Take him to a hospital?"

"Once every couple of months since I was fourteen. I'm twenty now," Jefferson states, taking James' hand gently.

The EMT shivers and looks back to James. Thomas closes his eyes and gently runs his thumb over James' skin. He looks scared. I've never seen him look so sad and scared. He gently lets go of James' hand and leans back, taking a deep breath. His hands are shaking and he looks like he's about to cry.

"Hey, he's gonna be okay," I whisper, placing my hand on Thomas' leg. "James is a strong man, he'll be fine."

Thomas let's out a bitter chuckle. "Well, before he was your friend, he was mine. I just, it's always a close call. There's never been a trip like that where the odds are in our favor. James, by simply existing, risks his life. God, I'm sorry. He usually pulls through, always, but, I'm just, I'm so scared. I'm always scared. Alex, you don't understand, James is the fucking reason I'm still here."

The ambulance pulls into the hospital parking lot and everyone gets out. James is wheeled in and people are yelling, but I can only focus on a hyperventilating Thomas. I sit him down in a chair and rub his back.

"Thomas, hey, shh, hey, it's okay," I whisper quietly.

He shakes his head. "No, no Alex, you don't understand, he's, I, I would've killed myself if it weren't for him I wouldn't be here. I devoted my entire fucking life to making sure he's okay. I stopped feeling sorry for myself and put myself in the fucking back burner. I literally did everything for him. I can't, Alex if I lost him, I'd lose myself."

I hug Thomas and let him cry into me. I do that for a bit, then finally Thomas curls up in his chair, sniffling. I lean back and sit with him. I have always hated hospitals. It reminds me of when my mother was dying when I was dying. It makes me feel sick and uncomfortable, but I'm here with Thomas. He doesn't have James right now, so he has me. I wait with him for a while but excuse myself for a second when John calls me. I stand up and step outside, then pick up my phone.

"Hey," I say, pressing my phone to my ear.

"Hey, is everything okay? Laf told me you went to get fresh air with James and then called Thomas out and didn't come back. Granted he's high, so I might be wrong, but, still, are you okay?" John sounds concerned but not panic-inducing.

"I, um, I'm at the hospital with Thomas. James started coughing blood and so, I went with them to the hospital. I'll be back whenever we get any answers, maybe late. Just, relax. I'll be home soon, I'm fine," I state.

"Holy, is Thomas okay?" John asks.

I sigh. "I don't know. That's why I'm staying until we get some results. I'll text you later, alright baby?"

John hums. "Okay. I love you."

"I love you too." I hang up and walk back in. Thomas is pacing a bit, mumbling to himself a bit. I sit down and ring my hands together a bit. We stay like this for another hour, worry pooling at the bottoms of our stomachs. Thomas finally sits down at one point, I get us coffee and food, but we both barely touch it. It's hard to get the image of James coughing up blood out of my mind, I can't imagine how many times Jefferson has seen it.

"James Madison?" Says a deep voice. Jefferson and I stand up quickly, making our way over to the doctor. The doctor looks pretty neutral so it's hard to tell if we're about to get good or bad news. I'm shaking, Thomas looks like he's going to throw up.

"Is he, is he okay?" Thomas asks quietly.

"James Madison had a severe bronchitis attack and ended up tearing his lung. Due to the smell, all three of you boys had lingering on your clothes, I'm guessing you were in a smoky room. That can't happen anymore. We know James has been smoking pot, but he can't smoke anything ever again. It's too hard on his lungs," The doctor lectures.

"God, I should've, I shouldn't have, this is my fault," Jefferson mumbles, running his hand through his hair.

"Is he okay?" I ask, placing my hand on Thomas' back.

The doctor nods. "He's awake, but only one at a time."

"Thomas, you go see James," I state, looking at him.

He nods. "You go home. Thank you so much for being here, Hamilton. I really, I just, I needed someone. And you were, just, thank you."

I nod, hugging him. "Take care, brother."

"You too," he mumbles.

I release him and wave goodbye as he heads into the hospital hallway. I make my way out of the building and shiver as I walk down the street to the subway station. I didn't have time to grab my jacket on the way on, so I'm pretty fucking cold right now, but thankfully the subway is reliably stuffy and warm. Since I don't want to pay and I don't have my wallet anyway, I hop over the bar and make my way to the platform. I'm waiting for A train, which pulls up next thank god. I step onto the train and pull out my earbuds, plugging them in and turning on some music. I rap softly with it as I stare out the window and watch the tunnel walls pass me by. It's only another two stops until I'm at a station about a block down from school. I step off the train and walk down the street of New York, heading home to my dearest John and my wonderful bed. It's late, about seven, so I'm starting to feel a little drowsy.

One I step on the elevator, I set a reminder on my phone to call Jefferson, then wait until we finally get to my floor. I step off and make the walk down the hall until I get to my dorm. At this point, the only thing I want to do is wash the rest of James' blood of my hands and cuddle John. I know I'll have to put peroxide on the cuffs of my sweater until I want the light blue to be stained a rusty brown for the rest of its lifetime.

"Alex!" John rushes over to me when I walk into the room. "Is James okay?"

I nod. "Yeah, he had a bronchitis attack and tore his lung or something. I really need to wash my hands, they've got blood all over them. Do we have any peroxide?"

John nods. "Take off your sweater, I'll wash it when you finish washing your hands."

I let out a yawn and slip off my sweater, making my way into the bathroom. I turn on some hot water in the sink and begin washing. It's easy to get the blood off my hands, but not so easy to get it out from under my nails. I find the events of the day sinking in a bit as I do so. I'm washing my friend's blood off my hands. And it won't come off. My chest begins to sink in and my breathing becomes haggard.

"Alex, baby, are you okay?" John asks, stepping in the bathroom.

"It, it won't come off," I stutter. "His blood, it won't come off." My breathing becomes heavier and nausea builds up in my stomach. "I'm gonna be sick."

"Oh, okay come on baby, I've got your hair," John coaxes as I kneel down in from of the toilet. He holds back my hair and I vomit everything I'd eaten that day. I'm coughing and crying and vomiting and the whole situation is just messy. When I stop, I end up just falling back into John's arms, crying. He holds me and whispers small things in my ears while I sob into his chest. He holds me tight to his chest and rocks me gently.

"I'm sorry," I mumble when I've calmed down. "I'm sorry, John."

"Hey, hey, no, don't apologize. It's okay, Alex. I'm right here. I'm right here. Just let it out, it's okay. You're okay. I'm not leaving." John strokes my hair and presses his lips to the side of my head. "I've got you, Alex."

I sigh, shuddering. "I just, it kinda set it what happened. I, John oh my god." My voice breaks with a sob. "He was, there was so much blood."

John rocks me gently. "Shh, I know, I know."

I sigh and hug John tightly. "It was just, it was scary. I don't know. I'm going to call Jefferson in the morning to ask how he's doing."

John nods. "That's a good idea. I'm sure James will be okay."

I sit up and shake myself out. "God, I need to go change. I'm fucking exhausted. Let's, just, like, you know, cuddle and watch something. Take our mind off of it or something."

John nods. "I'll wash out your sweater, you go get everything set up, okay?"

"Okay." I peck him on the lips and then walk into the main area. I listen to the faucet run as I get out some clean clothes, then tie my hair up and pull out my laptop. Since the Netflix tab is already open, I head to my email. I find one from professor Washington, so I click on it and scan over the email. It is basically saying that he's going to pair us up for a big project on Monday, and he wants us to have at least a day to prepare for the idea of having to work with people. Then he made it specifically clear that if you are dating, or have dated, he will not pair you up. Then he made it clear he knew exactly who that was.

"Hey, baby, your sweater is pretty clean but I'm gonna just let it soak in water with detergent in it. What do you want to watch?" John asks, stepping out of the room.

I shrug. "Newsies? It's on Netflix. I heard some good things about it, and it's based in New York, so, like, why not?"

John smiles and comes to sit next to me, hugging me close to him. "Newsies it is then."


	26. Maria Lewis is a talented young artist who deserves literally all the recognition in New York

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was back in New York this summer and I went and did this with my cousin and her gay friend and his gay friend. I had never been in a room with so much Juul smoke and so little water.

/John/

"Hey, Lex?" I say on Sunday morning, coming out of the bathroom, a tee shirt over my shoulder, my hair still a tad wet from the shower I took.

"Yeah?" Alex replies, looking up from his laptop.

"I'm gonna go hang out with Lafayette, Angelica, and Maria for a while," I tell him, smiling

Alex nods, looking back down and continuing his typing. "M'kay, love, have fun."

I go back into the bathroom and brush my teeth, then do my hair up in a quick bun and put my tee shirt on over my head. I step out and slip on my jacket and my sneakers. I plant a quick kiss on Alex's coffee-stained lips and then meet Lafayette in the hallway. He's, of course, wearing something elegant and fitting to his personality. While I adorn a pair of blue jeans and a black tee shirt, as well as my olive green coat, he has on a navy colored cloak that goes down to his shins, as well as a pair of high waisted 70s looking bell bottom jeans, a form-fitting white tee shirt with vertical red stripes, and a black beret. He was looking elegant, vintage, and definitely liked he murdered his husband for his riches.

"Damn, Laf, you taking me to project runway or some shit?" I ask as we begin walking down the hall.

He laughs and moves some flyaway hair from his face. "No, no, we are going to Maria's art show. She's been renting out a little room and getting it ready for an art show, with not just her, but other people too. But right now, only her art is in there so she wanted to invite a few people to see it. We were those few people."

"Why not Eliza?" I ask, knowing how the two of them are close.

Laf shrugs a bit. "Maria said Eliza was coming opening night, and that's when she wanted to show her."

I nod, smiling a bit. "Well, that's cool. I didn't know Maria did art. Does she take classes?"

Laf shakes his head as we descend down the stairs. "No, no she doesn't. She said she doesn't have enough money at the moment, but would if she could."

I sigh. "That's sad. I wish she could take some. But I'm really excited to see her art tonight. I didn't even know she was an artist."

Laf shakes his head. "Neither did I. I'm excited to see it though."

We make our way down the street, our arms linked so we don't lose each other in the crowd. Laf and I have always found it easy to be friends. We are both similar people. We like to party, we have occasional problems with drinking, we love our boyfriends, and we're into activism. And the fact that we're both kinda country people never hurt. He and I have a similar taste in music, and we find ourselves hanging out sometimes, getting high and listening to Bryce Vine and Kendrick Lamar. It's weird because we both come to each other when we're feeling down and leave feeling happy. Laf and I just provide each other with a happy energy and a comfortable atmosphere.

We finally end up at a small building that has the same address Maria gave us. It's not a large building, obviously rented out, and just the first floor. It's very nice though, obviously made for art shows and what not. We see a poster for the art show this Friday, and I take a picture of Maria's name, as well as the full poster and post it to SnapChat, hoping to give one of my favorite local artists some promotion. We walk inside and see Maria and Angelica talking. I look around at the art and I'm shocked. Maria does collage. Weird collage. Overly sexualized female bodies with animal heads, text, musicians faces put over fucking pornstars. It's beautiful.

"Maria," I say. "Holy shit, how have we never talked about art together before? These are so fucking cool. Oh my god."

"You really like them?" Maria says, smiling.

I nod and go in for a hug. "This is so cool, Maria. I'm so proud of you. This looks so cool. I love the way you incorporated feminist ideals with also almost, a humorous take on it, but in the same way making a huge statement about how media views women and pop stars. I love how you formatted it too. It looked worn but new at the same time."

"You have no idea how much hearing that means to me. I just got so worried that, like, I wasn't good enough to have my art in a gallery." Maria begins to get anxious as she talks, moving her hands a bit more.

I gently place my hands on her shoulders. "Honey, I promise you, these are awesome. I love it very much."

"It looks wonderful, Maria," Laf compliments, smiling as he looks at the art. "I wish I could go into as much detail as John did, but I am not that artistically intelligent."

"Okay, guys, the reason I invited the three of you here specifically is that I made a movie, and, well, you were the only three who I knew who were the least biased and the most loving of movies," Maria explains. "So, basically, I just wanted to bring you all here to watch it. Would that be cool?"

"Fuck yeah," Angelica says. "What's the movie called?"

"Okay, John, it's a little weird, the title, but I promise that's not what it's all about," Maria explains, looking a bit worried.

"Ooh, now I'm curious," I say, smiling.

"It's called I Fell In Love With Alexander Hamilton," Maria says quickly.

I smile. "This is going to be the best movie I've ever seen. But, wait, before we watch it, would you care to explain to us your art more?"

Laf nods. "Yes, I do think it would be interesting to hear what was going through your head when you made these."

Maria nods and leads us over to her first collage, which consists of women in lingerie with animal heads. They call have been cut out and plastered onto a man who was probably in a suit add. Some look as if they are in his chest pocket, others on his shoulder, others at his feet. The man's face has been replaced with a camera lens. "This is one of my favorites," Maria starts. "It's called Animals. The man himself represents, in a way, media, hence the camera. The women around him are what the media craves, an over-sexualization of the female form. I replaced their heads with animals though because that is often how they are treated. Like they are not human, but simply animal."

"I really like this one, Maria," Angelica comments. "Is your art for sale?"

Maria shies away and blushes. "You don't want to buy this."

Angelica nods. "But, I do."

Maria bites her lip. "It's not for sale, yet. It goes on sale on the exhibit night this Friday, so come and buy it if you want."

"I'll be there," Angelica winks.

Maria leads us to the next one, which looked to be a giant orgy cut out of a pornstar magazine with celebrity heads glued on. All the genitalia that the image should hold has been covered by a black bar with white text saying 'censored.' Maria looks very proud of this one. "This one took me the longest. I decided to name it Exploitation. It's obviously representing celebrities in sexual relationships but I censored out the good bits because, if you think about it, that's what we do. We exploit people, but we leave out the best parts. Everyone has a need to hear other people's secrets, but no one wants to confess their own bones."

Laf rubs his scruff for a second. "I love this one. I love the way you created such a deeper message about it."

"I love the inclusion of text," I tell her.

Maria smiles and begins to walk over to another. "Then you'll love my last one. I call this one Sinners."

In front to us is a collage that is almost hard to take in. The background is text from magazines, talking about homosexual marriage negatively, spewing homophobia. The text has been splattered with red paint that looks like blood. But then, right in the middle, is a picture of Eliza. She's sitting criss-cross, a flower crown in her hair. She's smiling, her cheeks holding a light blush.

"The paint and the magazines represent in many ways how I was brought up. I was brought up to dislike, and hate gays. For a while, I did. But, I got more educated. And then I met Eliza. And, I just, I fell in love with her. And, I know I haven't left James yet, I know I haven't been great, but god, I just, I want to be with her for the rest of my life. She's so, she's so perfect." Maria blushes, placing her hand over her mouth. "I've probably said too much, but, you, you get the point, right?"

Angelica smiles. "You deserve my sister."

Maria giggles and waves her hand a bit. "Come on, let's go watch this movie."

We go into another room, which is darker and has a lot of pillows on the floor. Incense burns and a projector shines onto the wall. We all get situated, me between Angie and Laf, Maria on the other side of Angie. I grab one of the pillows and hug it to my chest, leaning against Lafayette a little bit, due to the fact that it's a bit cooler in the room.

"Would you guys like some wine?" Maria asks, pulling out a bottle.

Laf and Angelica nod their heads but I shake mine.

"I'm good," I tell her, holding up my hand a little bit.

"You trying to quit drinking?" Laf asks me.

I shake my head. "No, just, when I drink casually I don't have any self-control. I've got a few alcoholic tendencies, but like, I'm not an alcoholic or anything, I just have shitty self-control."

Laf nudges me. "I get that. That's how I am with drugs sometimes. Maria, you got any water for my boy?"

"Oh yeah, I also got ginger ale, babe, you want some?" Maria says, pulling out a glass bottle of ginger ale from a mini fridge.

I nod. "That sounds good."

Maria pours the others and herself some wine, hands me a cooled bottle of ginger ale and then finally turns on the film and we all begin watching. The first scene is something I remember but had no idea was being filmed. It's the last girls night we had. Eliza was doing my hair, and I walk talking about Alex.

"I fell in love with Alexander Hamilton in my senior year of high school at a party. He had sat down on the couch and started reading while all the havoc was going on, and that's when I knew. That's when I knew I loved him," I'm saying. The screen cuts to a small clip of Alex and I dancing together in the courtyard by the law building. I was laughing and Alex was talking.

The screen kept cutting too little bits of Alex and me, sometimes at a bar, sometimes at a party, sometimes just in our dorm hanging out with people. Then, it cuts to Eliza, sitting on the floor, laughing as she looks down at cards.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she says.

"Come on, baby, for me?" Maria pleads from behind the camera.

Eliza blushes, looking up at Maria. "Only because I love you." She looks back down to the cards. "I, Eliza Schuyler, fell in love with Alexander Hamilton in my senior year of high school at a party." Eliza stops and starts laughing, then lets out a snort. "Cut out that snort."

"Never," Maria mumbles from the camera.

Eliza groans. "Okay, okay. He had sat down on the couch and started reading while all the havoc was going on, and that's when I knew. That's when I knew I loved him." Eliza looks back up at the camera. "Man, Alex seemed kinda lame in high school."

"Okay miss 'I watched My Little Pony until I was seventeen,' keep talking," Maria shoots back, laughing. "Everyone was lame in high school, Alex is just like us."

The screen cuts to see Eliza and Maria holding hands at a movie theatre.

"Here? Man, my little movie maker," Eliza smiles.

Maria giggles from behind the camera. "That makes you my movie star, gorgeous."

A few more minutes of moments with Eliza and Maria, and then it cuts to Hercules. He's sitting on a bed, leaning against the wall. Laf is lying between his legs, looking stoned or drunk, or both. Hercules has one arm around Laf's stomach and his other arm holding up some cards in front of him.

"I don't remember this," Laf mumbles quietly from beside me.

Herc, on screen, begins to speak. "I fell in love with Alexander Hamilton in my senior year of high school at a party. He had sat down on the couch and started reading while all the havoc was going on, and that's when I knew. That's when I knew I loved him."

"Mmf, you love me more, right?" Laf mumbles, his face pressed to Herc's chest.

Herc laughs, setting down the cards and hugging Laf closer to him. "My dearest Lafayette, I am so very in love with you. I cannot describe how much I love you. When I am with you, la vie en rose."

Laf laughs. "You learned French."

Herc chuckles. "For you, I will do anything."

The scene cuts to Laf and Herc in the library, kissing. Laf is in Herc's lap, but the kiss isn't sexual. It's loving. You rarely see Laf and Herc like this, because it seems they feel the need to prove to the world that they have sex, but when in private, that's when they really love each other.

The screen cuts to another scene of them, and then another. Then, it cuts from Herc and Laf feeding ducks to Washington. He's sitting on his couch wearing a hoodie and some blue plaid pajama pants. He looks like he woke up not too long ago since he had a mug of coffee in one hand and a card in the other.

"Angelica, you know I love you as a student and am always happy to help in art projects, but I feel like this is a tad bit weird," Washington states.

"No! It's not, I promise. I just need this clip," says Maria from behind the camera.

"Yeah! It's not like Alex will ever see it anyway. I think he'd hear the title and like, just tune out the rest of the movie and think about how something like this is named after him," Angelica says from next to Maria.

"He would not!" I call out, looking over at Angelica and Maria. "He would appreciate this."

"Watch the movie!" Maria calls.

I look back to the screen and get lost in the film again. Washington is laughing.

"Okay, okay," he says, giving in and looking at the cards. "I fell in love with Alexander Hamilton in my senior year of high school at a party." Washington stops and laughs. "In my senior year, I don't think Alex was even born yet. Anyway, he had sat down on the couch and started reading while all the havoc was going on, and that's when I knew. That's when I knew I loved him." Washington sets down the cards, chuckling a bit.

"What do you honestly think about Alex?" Angelica asks.

Washington gets this far off smile. "I love the boy. He's like a son to me, I'd protect him with my life. He's intelligent and too mature for his age. He and John, they have something good going on."

The scene cuts to Martha and George eating dinner and talking to each other about their day plans, then it cuts to them walking down the street holding hands together. Then, finally, at what looks to be a nicer restaurant, wearing nice clothes and holding hands as they eat dinner together. They look so very in love. It almost makes me feel jealous that he's not my professor. Then, the scene ends and a new image appears on the screen. A man, older, his girlfriend or wife standing next to him, smiling.

"I can't believe you asked me to do this," he jokes, staring at some white cards in his hand. "I fell in love with Alexander Hamilton in my senior year of high school at a party. He had sat down on the couch and started reading while all the havoc was going on, and that's when I knew. That's when I knew I loved him."

The scene cuts to another person, an old woman, reading my words, smiling, and then looking up and asking is this Alexander fellow was real. The scene cuts to a little girl, reading the cards, then a woman with too many piercings and an intense mohawk. She's reading my words too. Some people seem bored and bothered, others smile, other's laugh. It's weird. It's weird to hear people read my words, to read the things I said about my Alexander.

Then, finally, it cuts to an image of Angelica. She looks sad but is smiling. "I fell in love with Alexander Hamilton in my senior year of high school at a party." Angelica's eyes begin to water. "He had sat down on the couch and started reading while all the havoc was going on, and that's when I knew. That's when I knew I loved him." Her voice cracks and she looks down. Her shoulders begin to shake a bit, and tears roll down her cheeks. "Can I try that again?"

"Yeah, go ahead," Maria's voice says.

Angelica wipes her tears away and takes a deep breath. "I fell in love with Alexander Hamilton..." she pauses, thinking. "The moment he walked into class. He was magnetic. His smile, his eyes, his voice. The man, he has passion, he has, he has a fire."

"Angelica, that's not the line," Maria says slowly.

"Fuck, sorry. Okay, I got this. Last time, I promise," Angelica mumbles, shaking her head. "I fell in love with Alexander Hamilton in my senior year of high school at a party. He had sat down on the couch and started reading while all the havoc was going on, and that's when I knew. That's when I knew I loved him."

"There we go," Maria smiles, moving the camera a bit.

"Okay, cool," Angelica sighs, sitting back.

There's a silence, then Maria speaks. "You love him, don't you?"

Angelica nods. "Yes, but, but I know he is not for me. And, just, I love him, but I love John too. I love the love that that two share. It's not like I'm actively trying to take over his heart. I respect what he and John have. I'll get over Alex, it just hurts sometimes."

The screen goes black, and then the credits roll. It begins to sink in that the woman sitting next to me is in love with my Alexander. I don't even know what to do. I don't know what to say. It's not like she's done anything to try and get Alex, and it's not like she doesn't respect what he and I have, I just feel like I need to say something, do something, anything to in a way apologize for winning over the heart of the man she loves.

"I'm sorry, John." She breaks the silence. "I never meant for you to know that."

I shake my head. "No, don't apologize. The heart is a strange thing, I could never ask you to control it."

The walk home with Lafayette is peaceful. We keep our arms linked together, stopping and buying a lingerie magazine for Herc to get inspiration from, and a porn magazine for the aesthetic of it, in Laf's words. He tries to convince me to go into a sex shop with him to buy some toys and whatnot, but I politely tell him my only goal right now is to get back to my man. So, we walk home, keeping each other close so we don't wander or get distracted. We make it back to our dorms and bid each other goodbye, then enter our rooms. Alex is in the same place I left him, writing, hunched over, with his coffee mug empty this time though.

"Hey, lovely," I whisper gently, coming up behind him and hugging him.

"Hello, my dearest, Johnathan," Alex replies, smiling.

I kiss his cheek and then make my way to my bed. "Come to join me in the next hour, take a break."

"Mkay, lovely boy," Alex mumbles.

I pull out my phone and begin scrolling through Tumblr, and that's how Alex and I stay, happily just enjoying each other being here.


	27. Why do you assume you’re the smartest in the room? (I mean you are but still)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a musical is a lot of work but last night one of the other cast members ordered pizza and i sat with them in a doorway and ate it before going on to sing my part

/John/

"I'm gonna fucking eat a dick," is what I wake up to on Monday morning.

"Mmf, I volunteer," I mumble, rolling over a bit and grabbing my phone to check the time. My alarm goes off in five minutes, so I have a quick debate with myself on whether I should sleep another five minutes or get up now, but when a long string of curse words comes from Alex's mouth, I decide I should probably get up now.

"Fucking shit balls dick fuck bitch clit," he curses, smacking something.

"What is it, baby?" I ask, sitting up and running my hand through my unruly hair.

Alex groans loudly and spins around in his chair. "My fucking laptop froze."

I stand up and stretch, beginning the small popping session I have every morning. "You should buy a new one."

Alex lets out a long groan. "I've only had this one for what? Five years? It's fine."

I chuckle, cracking my back. "Babe, you've typed on it so much that you can't even see the letters on most of the keys. It's a wonder the thing still works from how much coffee you've spilled on it. You got that thing at the beginning of high school."

He sighs, groaning. "Ugh, I need a job."

I go to the closet and get out a pair of khaki joggers and a black tee shirt. "For sure, because the one thing you need is to work more."

Alex huffs. "Don't be rude. I just, I'm a little stressed right now."

I slip on my joggers and then throw the tee shirt over my shoulder before walking over to Alex and rubbing his shoulders. "You're always a little stressed. Maybe you should leave the working to me over the summer. You could just relax."

He shakes his head. "No, I'd lose my fucking mind. I gotta work."

"You don't have to work. You want to work," I point out, working on a knot in his shoulder.

"You know, this massage would be a lot more relaxing if you weren't attacking me," Alex snaps, standing up.

I hold my hands up. "Jesus, I'm not trying to attack you. I'm just trying to point out that you should take a break this summer. You can always work next year."

"John, I don't have that option. We're kinda poor, you know? And I have accumulated so much debt, I need to pay it off." Alex rolls his eyes a bit. "I'm not like you, John."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?" I snap.

"It means I don't have anyone backing me up right now. You do," Alex says.

"What am I? Nothing?" I throw my hands up a bit.

He lets out an exasperated sigh. "Whatever, John. You know exactly what I mean."

I bite my lip. "Yeah, I guess I do." I slip on my tee shirt and shoes, then my jacket. I grab my bag and head towards the door. "I'm gonna go to class."

"John, your class doesn't start for another hour," Alex points out.

I look him in the eye, my hand on the doorknob. "You know what I mean."

Leaving the room and walking down the hall alone feels wrong. He should be with me. I almost want to go back an apologize, but I don't. Instead, I just keep walking. Alex was right about one thing, I have an hour to kill, but I just end up at a coffee shop, sipping my white chocolate mocha and scrolling through art on Tumblr. My head keeps wandering back to the argument Alex and I had, so I decide that after class I want to talk about it, maturely. Herc has explained to me many times that it's always good to talk about things, or the relationship is doomed. So, I'll talk to him about this. I'll apologize, because I wasn't right in a lot of my actions, and he will too. It's a lot easier for him to apologize if I do it first, he has trouble admitting he's wrong sometimes, so a little push never hurts.

Finally, I get up and walk to class with about five minutes to spare. I sit down with Eliza as we wait for are consistently late professor. Eliza and I have become very close friends over this past couple of months. She's just really easy to talk to and I get really wholesome and helpful advice from her. We both like to talk, her about Maria and me about Alex. She's just so easy to converse with, so of course, I'm going to talk about the fight.

"Hey Johnny boy," Eliza smiles, looking up from her paper. "How's life?"

"Oof," I grunt, getting out my notebook.

"Hey, what's going on?" She asks, sitting back and pushing her pen behind her ear.

"Alex and I got into a fight," I inform her, slipping off my jacket and setting my phone on my desk. "And we didn't resolve it yet."

"When did this happen?" She asks.

I shrug. "About an hour ago."

"What happened?" Eliza leans forward a bit.

"Well he said he needed a job because his laptop was getting old and he needed a new one, so I said 'oh yeah, because you totally need to be working more' or something like that, and then when he said he was stressed, I said that he was always stressed and suggested that he not work this summer and let me make money so he could relax. Then he said he had to work and I pointed out that he just wanted to work, and then he brought up how he was in debt and then said he had no one backing him up like me, so I said 'what am I, a fucking chair?' Well, not exactly that but you get the point. Anyway, he was like 'you know what I mean' and then I left because that pissed me off," I recall.

"Wow, that's a lot. I got a couple things," Eliza starts. "The first, your sarcasm was not necessary. It was very immature of you, John. And sarcasm makes people feel stupid and you remember how Alex once went off on a kid because he called him stupid. Second, it was rude of him to discount your support for him, but maybe he feels this way for a reason, so it's gonna be important for you to talk to him about it. And finally, maybe working is a coping mechanism for Alex. Maybe this isn't just him being a workaholic, but there's something deeply rooted in his destructive work patterns. You know?"

I sit back, thinking. "Holy shit, you're right. How, how did you do that?"

"Dude, I'm going to be a therapist, this is going to be my job," Eliza says, smiling as she shakes her pen at me.

"Thanks, I'll be sure to talk to him," I confirm as our professor walks in.

Classes go by, me getting out of my last one a bit early. I pick up a pizza and bring it back to the dorm. I eat a slice and pull out my laptop, turning on Rent and watching it while I wait for Alex. Finally, at about four forty-five, he walks through the door. He looks a little ragged, but still as gorgeous as ever.

"Alex," I say, standing up. "I'm sorry."

Alex wastes no time, wrapping me in his arms and kissing me. We fall back onto my bed, kissing and holding each other. Our hands roam each other, trying to take in whatever we missed this morning. I'm about to slip off his shirt, but then I remember what Eliza told me to do in class today, so I stop us before we can go any farther.

"Wait, Alex, we should talk about what happened this morning," I say, placing my hand on his chest.

He groans. "But I like this so much more."

He goes to kiss me again but I stop him. "No, I'm serious, we need to talk about it. I was talking to Eliza about it and she said-"

Alex cuts me off, sitting up so he's straddling me. "Wait, you told her about the fight?"

I nod, creasing my eyebrows together. "Well, yeah. She's my friend. She always helps me with this stuff."

"Well, I'm glad she could be of such help, Johnathan," Alex states bitterly, climbing off of me and moving towards his desk.

I sit up and grab his wrist. "Hey, she gave me some good advice actually, and she took your side so I don't see why you're being so rude. I just want to talk to you about what happened, maybe work through some problems so we don't fight about this again."

Alex rolls his eyes. "Whatever, John, this is ridiculous."

I scoff. "Is that how little you think of me? I'm trying to fix this, to make things right. You're the one being incompetent right now."

"Oh, I'm being incompetent? Is that fucking so, John? I'm the only one in this room with any competence at all!" Alex exclaims.

I stand up, getting close to him. "The fuck does that mean?"

"It means I could take my final all on my own like a big boy," he snaps.

It takes me a second to process that insult. "Wow, that's fucked up."

Alex stands there, his jaw clenched. He almost looks like he regrets saying that.

"You fucking get off on this, don't you?" I laugh.

"What does that mean?" Alex asks, crossing his arms.

"You like the feeling of making other people feel dumb. You enjoy knowing that your words cut to the bone in someone. You and your words, you're fucking obsessed." I can't stop saying these things. "You just like the idea of being the smartest in the room, and you have to prove it whenever someone questions. You can't accept the idea that you're not the smartest person in the world. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Can you just fuck off already? Fuck you, John!" Alex snaps.

"How does it feel? Huh? How does it feel to know someone else has the upper hand in an argument? You don't like it, do you?" I taunt, smirking.

"You think you have the upper hand?" Alex laughs. "Okay, let's look at it this way. You are an incompetent, idiotic, pain in my ass. I don't need to think I'm the smartest person in this room because I know it."

"Well," I start, trying to think of something to say. That one really hurt. "You are a loud mouthed, arrogant, thin skinned, prick!" Tears come to my eyes and my voice cracks.

"What? Is baby Johnny gonna cry?" Alex pouts. "Come on, John, cry!"

"Leave me alone, Alex," I snap, trying to take a deep breath.

"What? You tried to be a big bad boy and then suddenly you stick your toe in the deep end and you realized you can't hang? Ha! You're fucking pathetic. You hear me? Pathetic," he laughs, placing his hands on my hips.

As much as I try to hold it back, a small sob escapes my chest. "I said leave me the fuck alone!" I cross my arms over my chest as a tear slides down my cheek. I refuse to meet his eyes, I can't.

"John..." Alex whispers softly.

"Oh, what? Johnny boy is crying and now suddenly you're all compassionate? You were calling me pathetic not thirty seconds ago! You were fucking mean!" I yell, more tears coming down my cheeks.

"So were you!" He shoots back.

"I didn't bring up shit that was out of your control! You think I liked telling that teacher I couldn't read? You think it was fun? It was fucking humiliating! This stupid fucking disability is humiliating, Alex! I know I'm fucking pathetic! I know I'm fucking retarded! You're not telling me anything new!" I probably have already lost by crying, but I don't care.

"John, I-"

I cut Alex off. "Fuck you! Get the fuck out! Get out! Please, just fucking leave!"

"John-"

I cut him off again. "Jesus! Alex, I want you to leave! And if you don't, I will!"

There's a quiet air in the room, then Alex goes to his desk. He grabs his computer desk and grabs his laptop bag. He slips on his shoes and then leaves, slamming the door on his way out. I start crying when he does, letting my chest break into sobs. I sit down on my bed and cry, my face in my hands. My heart hurts. Alex and I have never fought like that, ever. He's never said such mean things to me, and I to him. He's never made me cry like this.

I feel guilt run through me as I reach under my bed and pull out the full bottle of Jack Daniels. But that guilt doesn't stop me from opening it and taking a sip. I don't even feel it. I don't feel it slide down my throat. So, I keep drinking. I don't want to think about Alex. I don't want to think about what just happened. I just want to forget it. So, I keep drinking, and drinking, and drinking. Until three-fourths of the bottle is gone and I'm just lying on my bed, crying.

I never considered myself an alcoholic. I didn't drink as much as other alcoholics, I wasn't abusive, I'm rarely a sad drunk and never an angry drunk. I started drinking when I was upset in eighth grade. My parents were fighting quite a bit, to a point where even Alex couldn't stay sometimes. So, sometimes I would end up alone, sitting on my floor, listening to them. One night, after a big fight, I crept downstairs and found my dads bottle of Grey Goose vodka. I poured out about a cup and a half into a mug and then took it back up to my room. It tasted terrible, I remember this clearly, but I kept drinking it. I drank until that entire cup was gone and I couldn't even see straight. I drank so much that when Alex knocked on my window, I couldn't even stand up, and I had to text him, letting him know he could come in. About half an hour later, I vomited in my trashcan, Alex holding my hair back and whispering gentle things in my ear until I stopped. Nights like that started to occur more often. By day I was okay, just a normal kid, but at night, when my parents started fighting, when I would be left alone to my thoughts, I would drink. I knew I couldn't steal my parent's liquor forever, so I would pay homeless people to buy me bottles, and then I would drink. I think my bender ended after a three-day streak when I was just wasted that whole time. I would show up to school and be vomiting in trash cans, I couldn't walk. Alex was basically my babysitter. Finally, though, he broke.

I had just vomited my guts out in the gym locker room sink. I was kinda sober, so I remember this pretty clearly. Alex was there, helping me. When I sunk down to the floor, leaning against the wall, he gently placed a cool paper towel on the back of my neck and then wiped the vomit from my face. I'm honestly surprised he put up with me for that long. At this point, I was barely even John anymore. I was just a drunk mess whose parents couldn't seem to stop yelling. So, when Alex started crying, I was more than shocked. My mind always sobered before my mouth, so as I tried to spew out words of comfort, gentle and kind, it was just slurred gibberish. But I did know enough to take the boy into my arms, and we stayed like that, on the gym floor, for about half an hour. He cried and I held him. Finally, he stopped, and I'll never forget what he said to me.

"Please," he whispered hoarsely, his hand on my cheek. "Please let me have my John back. Whatever demons have possessed him, please leave. I want back my John."

And that was the day I started to stop drinking for any reason but a party. I had slip-ups, and I must say, showing up to school drunk is sometimes pretty embarrassing, but I worked out it. Even years after, I still had slip-ups. I think it had been nine months since I last drank like this, drank to change my mood, drank to try and be happy. And I hate myself for it. I hate that my first option was to turn to the bottle, was to drink and drink until was heart gave out. I feel like a failure. So, I call the only person I know I can.

"Eliza," I sing, stretching out the 'a' for a couple syllables when she picks up.

"John?" She asks. "Jesus, it's like six in the evening are you already drunk?"

"Alex is gone," I giggle. "I don't know where he went."

She pauses. "What do you mean?"

I laugh and lay back, struggling to pull a blanket over me. "It means that he and I got into a big big big big big fight and he walked out and he hasn't come back. I'm all alone with a bottle of Jack Daniels which is bad because I have severe alcoholic tendencies. Did you know that alcoholism runs in my blood?"

"John, baby, I'll be right there, okay? Just stay where you are," Eliza states.

I sigh dreamily as I stare up at the ceiling. "Oh, Eliza, he looked so beautiful, even when he was mad. I wanted to fuck up that pretty little face, and not in a good way."

"Okay, John, I've got to drive right now, so please stay where you are. I'll be there in ten minutes," Eliza states.

"Okay," I mumble, hanging up. I lie in my bed for a little bit, waiting, until finally, Eliza walks into my room. She's wearing a simple pair of Adidas joggers and a mint blue hoodie. Worry is etched into her face when she sits down on my bed, gently placing her hand on my shoulder.

"What, what happened?" She asks, her voice soft like she's afraid talking too loud might break me into a million pieces.

"Well," I start. "Alex walked in and I apologized. Then we were gonna have sex but I remember that you said I should talk to him about stuff so I told him you said to talk about stuff and then he got mad that I talked to you about this and then I called him incompetent and then he said that he was the only one here with any competence because he could do his final on his own and then I told him that he must get off on making people feel dumb and then he called me an idiotic, pain in the ass and then I was about to start crying and then he kept taunting me and then I started crying and he got all soft and then I yelled at him and told him to get out and then he left. Then I cried and started drinking, then I called you and now you're here and I'm reciting the events of this evening."

Eliza's eyes widen. "Wow, that's a lot."

I start crying again and hug Eliza. "I don't know what to do! I've never fought with him like this, ever! I don't know!"

"Hey, hey Johnny, it's okay, it's okay, shh, we'll figure this out. We will, I promise. Right now, we just need to get you to bed, okay? Come on, deary," Eliza whispers gently. I lay back down and she tucks me in, making sure the blanket isn't crinkled, making sure I'm comfortable.

"Could, could you read to me?" I request quietly.

"What book?" She asks, gently pushing some hair away from my face.

I sigh, thinking. "There's a book on my shelf over there, called Rotten, that one?"

Eliza nods and retrieves the book, then sits on the edge of my bed and begins reading. I close my eyes and roll onto my side, hugging my pillow, slowly drifting off into a deep sleep.


	28. Alex is not handling things the way a nineteen year old immigrant should but we still love him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll fight anyone. I'll fight God. I'll fight the sun, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I lay a finger on Anthony Ramos

/Alex/

The problem with John asking me to leave is that I didn't really know where to go. But, for some reason, I end up at the library. It's open twenty-four hours, so I pull out my laptop, plug it in, and begin to write. Nothing to do with school though, just about what happened. I sometimes do that to solve my problems. I'll write out what the problem I'm struggling with is, write out what happened, write out what caused it, try to see it from both sides, and then I write how to solve the problem. The thing is, though, I don't know how to solve the problem. I stare at the screen, but I cannot think of a single way to unsay all the things I said to John. He had every right to talk to Eliza about the fight, he had every right to want to talk about this. I spend hours mulling over this, letting the sun set over the New York skyline.

I must fall asleep because I wake up to someone shaking my shoulder. My head hits the table and I shoot up, falling backward in my chair and hitting the floor. I close my eyes and let out a long deep sigh, letting pain rush through my body and head. I probably just bruised my arm, but I don't care. Of course, John is the only thing on my mind right now.

"Alex, are you okay?" A voice asks.

I open my eyes to see James standing over me, then Thomas leaning against a bookshelf, laughing his ass off. "What do you want, Jemmy?"

"Have you been here all night? Isn't John worried?" James asks, sticking his hand and helping me up.

I shake my head. "He asked me to leave last night. We got into a fight. Is it early?"

"You and freckles got into an argument?" Jefferson looks up from his laughing fit. "That's new. I thought y'all couldn't fight or whatever."

I roll my eyes. "I'll probably just stay here until class starts. Thanks for waking me."

"We could work on our project," Thomas suggests.

"Oh, fuck, yeah, okay," I mumble. "Let me get some coffee first."

Yesterday Washington explained we'd have this week to create an essay explaining something the government needs to do differently or is blatantly doing wrong. He explained he would assign us partners based on who he think we would do best with. Laf got paced with James, Angelica got placed with Aaron, and of course, I got placed with Jefferson. I don't know what Washington was thinking, but when he saw the clear confusion within the whole classroom of his choice, he explained that he thought Jefferson and I were perfectly capable of working together and had very good minds. Washington also explained that that would be a big part of our grade, and then we'd have some low percentage projects during the semester and then at the end another big project, so, this is a pretty intense thing we have to turn in by Friday.

I find the coffee stand and order a triple red eye, twenty ounces, black coffee with no room for cream. I do end up pouring about four packets of sugar in it though just to boost my insulin a little bit and to get myself a sugar a rush. I grab a handful of packets just so in case I start to crash during class I can down one like a shot and keep going. I know it's probably going to be terrible for my health but fuck it, I don't care.

I walk back to the library and find Thomas and James sitting together at a table. It's four in the morning and they're studying like it's noon. They must be asleep by eight because they look wide awake right now. I sit down next to Thomas and pull out my laptop. Thomas and I begin discussing things to do for our project while James does some homework he forgot to do the other day. I drink my coffee pretty quickly and ignore the grumbling in my stomach. One thing I failed to grab before I left was my credit card, leaving me with only about ten dollars in cash so the chances of me getting food are slim to none. I'm okay with that though, I'm pretty good at forgetting to eat, so it's not like my empty stomach is going to be my biggest concern.

A few hours later, I'm walking tiredly into class, Laf gets up and walks over to me, a concerned look on his face. He's wearing one of Herc's hoodies and some jeans that look like Herc's just rolled up at the ankle and kept up with a belt. His hair is styled in a bun as always, and the little gold stars he always paints on in the morning line his cheeks. He looks at me as if I've got lobsters crawling out of my ears and dancing to the Blindspotting soundtrack.

"Ami, you, uh, just, I heard yelling coming from your dorm last night, is everything okay?" Laf questions.

I shrug. "John and I got into a fight."

"Have you talked to him?" Laf asks me.

I shake my head. "No. He doesn't want to see me right now."

"How do you know that?" Lafayette questions.

I sigh and look down at my old hoodie. "I just, I do, okay? I said some fucked up shit. I kinda just want to be alone right now."

He sighs and nods. "Okay, if you need anything, Herc and I are here."

I shrug and look down, then walk to a seat in the corner. I pull out my laptop and my books and begin writing a bit as Washington comes in. He gives me a concerned look but starts to teach his lesson. School goes by, me avoiding John and ending up in the library, curled up and taking another shot of a sugar packet while I study. John hasn't texted me and I haven't texted him. I don't think him and I have gone this long without talking on purpose in years. I miss him, but I know he's mad at me. I wish I couldn't go back and change what I said. God, I wish it was different.

 

Wednesday is here and I'm exhausted and starving. I haven't eaten in a long time and I got maybe a few hours of sleep, and I barely have enough money for Thursday coffee. I almost want to go and apologize to John, but I still feel too stubborn, and I still know he doesn't want to talk to me. I sit alone in law again, ignoring Laf's gentle pleads for me to sit with the rest of them. Jefferson and I work quietly together in the library early in the morning. I don't tell him what's going on, I don't let him pry. Whenever he does, I just change the subject really quick. I know he knows I'm doing that, but I really don't care.

"Alex! Alex, wait!" I hear Angie say as I get up and walk out of class. I had once again sat alone, not wanting anyone to really pry into my life right now, so whatever she needed to tell me, she couldn't tell me during class.

"What?" I mumble as she grabs my arm.

"Skip the next class with me, let's go to a cafe and talk. I'll pay," Angie says.

I shake my head. "I really need to-"

She cuts me off. "Nope. You don't have a choice baby boy. Come on, I'm paying. We're gonna get some food and coffee and water in you."

I sigh and follow her through the New York City streets. It's cold, and I'm only wearing a hoodie, but I just shoulder my satchel and cross my arms, hoping the cafe she's taking me to is close. Luckily, it is, just a block off of campus. The cafe is called The Little Brownie, and it has a warm atmosphere. It's not too crowded, and there's soft guitar music playing. The smell of all the baked goods makes my mouth water. I can't help but sigh and relax a little bit.

"Hey, Angie, what can I get you?" Says a dark-skinned girl.

"Hey, Sally. Um, I'll have a hazelnut breve and some pumpkin bread. This hot pocket right here will have a twenty-ounce Americano, a bagel with cream cheese, and a brownie, mkay, sugar plum?" Angelica smiles and pulls out her wallet.

"Angelica, I cannot ask you to get me that much," I say.

"Shut up, I'll do whatever the fuck I want," Angelica smiles, swiping her card. She guides me to a table by the window and sits down. I sit down in front of her and stare out the window for a second, sighing gently. Sally comes over and brings us our drinks and food. I sit my coffee and take a bite of my bagel. It's so good, and I gotta admit, I really did need it. I was starving.

"Thank you," I mumble, my mouth full.

"What's going on with you and Johnny?" Angelica asks.

I shrug. "We got into a fight and haven't really talked about it. I don't know. He doesn't want to see me right now, so I'm keeping my distance."

Angelica laughs. "He feels like shit. I know because Eliza has basically been babysitting him. The boy can drink. I seriously didn't think someone could down half a bottle of Absolut vodka in that little time but there he goes. Also, I didn't know John had a country accent but when he gets super drunk he starts talking like he's from Georgia."

I sigh. "Yeah, he drinks when he's upset, and he is from the south originally. If you ask him, he'll say he has a few alcoholic tendencies, if you ask me, he's a full blown alcoholic and deeper in denial than Laf is on Herc's dick. The boy's been drinking since eighth grade. I love him to death, but oof."

Angie shrugs. "Yeah, it's pretty bad. You got any suggestions?"

I shake my head. "I have to break down to get him to stop a bender."

Angelica sighs and sips her coffee, looking out the window. "You look like shit, you know? Like full on shit."

A bitter chuckle escapes my lips. "Babe, I know. I haven't showered since Monday."

"You need a shower. You know, they have soap and showers and shit at the campus gym? It's free and you just need to be a student. The gym, the library, and the cafeteria are open twenty-four seven. And, you know the Schuyler's apartment is always open for you." Angelica wipes a bit of cream from her upper lip. She's smiling sadly at me and looks almost pitying. I take her advice to mind and then resent her for pitying me.

"Thank you," I mumble, taking another bite of my bagel. My stomach shifts uncomfortably from the new food but I keep eating anyway. I was hungry, and I knew that if John and I didn't make up any time soon, this was going to be the biggest thing I eat all week.

"Alex, why haven't you talked to John yet?" Angelica asks me gently.

I sip some of my coffee. "I don't know. Maybe I'm stubborn."

"Maybe you're scared," she interjects.

I shake my head. "Scared? With all due respect, no."

"You are! You're scared of rejection. Why?" She pushes.

I hate it when people do that. When they read me without my permission and then ask questions about my life, again, without my permission. I hate people reading me because it makes me feel vulnerable like they could destroy me with the snap of their fingers. I don't like people knowing my weaknesses, simply because it makes me uncomfortable. It makes me feel nervous. Don't get me started on when people push me and ask questions about me. There's a very specific reason John is the only one who really knows anything about me. It's because he is the only one I've known for about a third of my life. He's the only one I really trust. I think Angelica is a wonderful person, but I do not trust her as much as I trust my John.

"Because. Drink your coffee. I don't want to talk about it," I mumble.

Angie holds up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I got it. How are you and Jefferfuck working? I almost bribed James to film it but then I realized I could just ask you."

I laugh for the first time in a while and finish off my bagel. "We're fine." I unwrap my brownie. "We were working together this morning and both of us were too tired to really argue. We just kinda outlined it. We're doing two essays and it's basically two different opinions on the same thing. Like, a scripted debate."

Angelica nods. "That's cool. I heard it was gonna snow, like, heavy."

I groan loudly. "Yuck. Back in the Caribbean, it was always warm."

A laugh escapes the dark-skinned girl's lips. "Hey, my next class is soon. Go shower, dude. They provide towels."

I nod and we both get up and make our way to campus. I head to the gym and flash my student ID to the main desk, then head to the locker rooms. I grab a clean towel and then end a stall after hanging up my clothes on the door. I'm hoping that even though I can't wash them at the moment can air them out and steam them a bit so they don't smell like shit. I gotta say, it's pretty nice to shower. The warm water is cleaning me off, and they do, like Angie said, provide soap, so I make sure to wash best I can. Since I have nowhere to go, I do end up turning the water a bit warmer and sitting down on the floor of the stall, closing my eyes. I don't sleep, but I do find it pretty relaxing. Finally, though, I get up and turn off the shower. My skin has turned reddish from the heat of the water, but I don't care. I just dry off and get my clothes back on.

I end up spending the rest of the night in the library again. I haven't really been working on the project I'm supposed to be doing with Jefferson, but I have been working on my other homework. Jefferson and Madison don't come to the library, so I'm alone until class starts. I end up making it to Washington's class half an hour early. I'm surprised to see Washington at his desk, grading papers. But, I quietly go to my seat in the corner, where I've been for the past couple of classes. Washington doesn't notice me until I accidentally drop one of my books.

"Alex," he says, his voice sounding almost relieved. "How are you?"

I shrug. "I'm fine."

He stands and makes his way to where I sit, then stands in front of me. "How are you really? I'm not an idiot, something is going on."

I shrug. "John and I got into a fight."

"When?" Washington asks.

"Monday," I answer, looking at my books.

A sigh escapes his lips. "Have you talked to him yet?"

I look down. "Well, no."

"Boy, that's not how you fix things like this. You got into a fight, and I won't pry on what it was about, but that's going to happen. Martha and I have fought. We've fought often, and sometimes we've had bad patches. Every single time, the reason we went through bad patches was that we weren't communicating. I am all too aware that you are a stubborn person Alex, believe me, I see it in you every day. I am also aware though, that you and John are very much in love. If you let one fight be the end of you two, I will be thoroughly disappointed." Washington sighs gently. "You, you don't like to give up on anything, Alex. Why is this any different?"

I place my face in my hands. "You're right."

Washington nods. "I know I'm right, Hamilton."

A few people begin to walk through the door and Washington goes and sits down again, pretending like the conversation we just had never happened. I make it through his class, as well as my other classes, and finally, begin to walk out of the building. I just want to go take another shower at the gym to kill time, buy some coffee, and spend my night in the library, studying and hopefully finishing up the only half done project for Mr. Washington.

Then, I see him. He looks ragged, tired, and drunk. He's swaying as he walks but makes eye contact with me almost as soon as I make eye contact with him. My dearest John, for one in his life, looks absolutely awful. He has never looked bad, even during finals, even during puberty, which is incredibly hard not to look bad during. But right now, he looks like shit. His hair is a mess, his eyes have bags under them, he's just wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. A hoodie I wore a lot, even though it belonged to him. And I realize, at this moment, I have only two options.

Number one, I walk over to him. I hug him close to me. I tell him I love him. We go back to our dorm and I let him sleep off his hangover, then we spend tomorrow to talk about what happened. Things go back to normal, and we're okay again. Or, I could choose option number two. That one includes me walking away and pretending this never happened. The two choices ping-pong through my brain at rapid speed, but luckily, I don't have to make the choice, because it's John who looks down, then turns and walks in another direction.

My heart begins to heart and I rapidly walk towards the gym. My eyes begin to burn and a lump forms in my throat. I make my way to the gym quickly, flash my student ID, and then head straight to a shower stall. I strip down and then grab something about of my bag before turning on the water and collapsing onto the floor, crying. Does he not care? Does he not want to fix things? I know he tried to when I first got home on Monday, I ruined that though. Maybe, maybe he just doesn't want to even try to get back in contact.

TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM

 

More tears drip down my face and I begin to do some damage to myself that I haven't done in a while. It doesn't make me feel better, but I keep doing it for a bit. I forgot how foggy it makes your brain when you just let them bleed, so I end up sitting back, my head against the wall, letting the red substance drain from me. It does stop, but not before my face becomes a little pale and my head becomes a little woozy. I end up passing out on the shower floor, which was a mistake. A huge mistake.

 

I wake up at four am to aching in my back. I groan loudly and look down at my wrist. It's swollen and red, but I ignore it and stand up, shaking myself out a bit and popping my back. My knees hurt like hell, and my spine is killing me, but I get dressed anyway and head out of the gym. I'm surprised no one came to wake me, or even check on me, but it doesn't matter much now, so, I head to the library. I end up getting a few Aleve from the librarian, who watched me sadly as I limped over to a desk and sat down. After a few minutes though, sitting just wasn't doing me any good, so I went in between the shelves and laid down, stretching my back as I just scrolled through memes and charged my phone and computer. My back definitely still hurts, but keeping it flat and in line with my body for a while helped tremendously.

I walk into Washington's class, ready to just work my way through it. So, I find my seat in the corner and open up my stuff, ready to get a bit ahead. I was about half an hour early, but he wasn't there this time. At least it's Friday though. Maybe over the weekend, I can talk to John, or at least make some living arrangements. Maybe Jefferson will let me stay with him, or I do always have the Schuyler sisters. Or I could just makeup with John and come home.

As people start to file in, so do Laf, Aaron, and Angelica. It shocks me when they sit one row in front of me, and forcibly include me in the conversation. I guess they figured that I would stay alone for the rest of my life if I could. It's nice though, I haven't talked to them in a while. They don't pry, they don't make a big deal out of it. Things just, go back to normal. I even smile a little as Laf retells Herc's sleep talking instance.

"Alex! Hey!" Jefferson smiles, walking in and sitting down next to me. "You're lucky, I almost forgot to finish my side of the project last night. I got it done though."

I pause. "The, the project?"

"You know, the one that we've been working on all week that is a pretty big part of our grade?" Jefferson laughs, knocking my shoulder a bit.

"I, I." There's silence. Not even Laf or Aaron are talking. A sigh escapes my lungs. "Thomas, I, I didn't do the project. I didn't finish it. I'm so-"

Jefferson cuts me off. "You, you what?"

My body shrinks down a bit. "I didn't finish the project."

"Are you fucking kidding me, Alex?" Jefferson's voice raises, drawing the attention of anyone else in the room. He and I haven't argued in a while.

"Thomas, calm down," James demands, his voice steady.

Jefferson looks aghast. "Calm down? This is a big part of our grade! Fucking hell! He didn't even do it! Are you fucking kidding me right now? Alex, what the fucking hell?"

"Hey!" Snaps Angie. "Leave him the fuck alone. It's been a hard week. Besides, Alex has never turned in anything late, I'm sure Washington will give you guys an extension."

"Oh, of course, he will! He's got Washington in his pocket! Alex is so far up Washington's ass he can see the back of his tongue!" Jefferson exclaims, his voice louder. I can't do much else but sit there as this slander is delivered to me. I begin to rub my sweater sleeve, reopening anything I could and pushing just so I could feel a bit a pain.

"Hey! That was fucking uncalled for!" Lafayette snaps, standing up and turning around. Aaron has yet to do anything, but I can tell he's starting to get restless.

"Shut it, Frenchy, you can talk to him about this while you're up there with him," Jefferson rants, throwing his hands up. "I can't believe this, Alex! The one time we get paired up on something, you slack off. This isn't just you this is affecting! It's me too!"

"Shut the fuck up, Jefferson!" Aaron suddenly snaps, standing up and turning around. "You don't give a fucking damn about anyone but yourself! For once, for fucking once, why don't you try to understand that it's been a rough fucking week for Alex! He didn't get it done, boo-fucking-hoo! You both will get an extension and get a good fucking grade no matter what, so shut the fuck up."

"Oh fuck off Burr. Did Theo not give you enough pussy last night?" Jefferson taunts.

Aaron suddenly begins to climb over the chair, much like myself whenever Charles Lee would open his mouth. He's about to spring forward, but he's pulled back quickly and steadied. In front of all of us is an angry Washington.

"What is the meaning of this?" He demands, his voice loud.

"Hamilton didn't finish his goddamn half of the fucking project!" Jefferson exclaims.

"Jefferson is being a total fucking prick about it! Alex has had a fucking rough week he doesn't need this shit!" Angelica snaps, coming to my defense.

"Jefferson, you are yelling at Alexander because of this? Frankly, it's a little disquieting that you would let yourself be so blinded by your needs that you can't even look around for a second at what's going on!" Washington snaps.

"If this was any other student-"

Washington cuts Jefferson off. "I would say exactly the same thing. Plenty of students who turn in their work early or on time could not finish this project on time and asked for an extension, to which I happily granted! Both you and Hamilton would have been given a weeks extension without a second thought!"

"We wouldn't need an extension is Hamilton just did his fucking work!" Jefferson says, glaring at me.

"Thomas, knock it off," James snaps.

"You knock it off, James. I have every right to be mad about this!" Jefferson growls.

"No, you don't!" Angelica shoots back.

"And you had no right to bring Theo into this!" Aaron points out.

Suddenly, I can't take it anymore. Between the shit with John, the words Jefferson was slinging at me, the tornado of yelling around me, and the open wounds on my wrist with blood pooling into the palm of my hand, I break. All the emotions I had been holding in all week had burst free in a hurricane of pain, misery, anxiety, and depression. So, I break a vow I swore I never would break, no matter what.

I start sobbing. In front of everyone.

Everyone stops yelling as I bury my face in my arms and sobbed. My chest cracks and my shoulders shake. It's not quiet sobbing either. I'm loud and sounding almost in agony. My voice echoes through the room as I cry. It seems like they don't really know what to do. Granted, I wouldn't either. No one has ever seen me cry. Well, no one besides John. But, he's an obvious exception. So, as I sit there and cry, no one seems to know what to do.

"Alexander." Washington's voice finally breaks the silence the group shares. "Alexander, Are you okay?"

"I'm so tired," I cry out, lifting my head from my arms. "I haven't slept all week, I passed out in a fucking locker room last night, I haven't eaten since Wednesday, and fucking Jefferson is yelling at me! I miss John! I miss my John!" I break in a sob again, my chest shaking.

"Come to lie down in my office, son. We'll get your wrist cleaned up too," Washington offers. I look down and realize that blood has soaked through my sweater sleeve, dripping onto the desk. I don't want to make any more of a scene, so I just nod a bit and stand up. I don't even try to grab my stuff, I just follow Washington back to his office. He leads me to sit down on the couch, then asks me to take off my hoodie.

"I'm sorry," I mumble as I slip it off. "I'm sorry I didn't finish the project. I know I usually have stuff like this done a week early, but I don't this time. I'm so sorry. I really, I just, I have no excuse. I'm sorry."

Washington sighs as he takes my damaged wrist in his hand and begins to wipe off the blood. "You do not need an excuse. Why didn't you tell me you were living out of the library? You didn't have anything to eat? I would've taken you in."

I shake my head. "I didn't want to bother anyone."

"This is going to sting." He opens an alcohol wipe and begins dabbing it to the wounds. "When was the last time you slept in a bed?"

A small chuckle escapes my lips. "Sunday. I haven't eaten since Wednesday, and even then it was just a bagel and a brownie."

Washing places antibacterial ointment on my wrist and then gauze. "I'm calling my wife, she's going to come to pick you up. I'll email the rest of your teachers and let them know you won't be attending."

"No," I start. "I can't, I have to go-"

He cuts me off as he begins bandaging my wrist. "I don't want to hear it, Alex. She'll be here in about ten minutes. We have a guest room where you'll be staying. My wife will provide you with a pair of clean clothes and a meal, and then you will sleep. No alarms, no nothing. I don't want to hear anything about it."

I don't try to argue back because I would be arguing with the man who is teaching me how to argue better. Instead, I just let him dress my wounds, then call his wife. He exits his office, and then comes back in with my stuff a few moments later. He hands me a granola bar from his desk and then gently places his hand on my shoulder before leaving. I sigh and look down at my bandaged wrist, then shove my hoodie in my bag and pull out a book. I haven't been able to read too much this week, so it's nice for the bit of time I have now, to sit and relax, reading. I enjoy the small getaway as I dive into old politics, ignoring anything that's coming to my head. Soon though, the wife of my professor walks through the door. She looks at me with a sad smile.

"Hey, Alex. My car's upfront. Let's get a meal in you," she smiles. I stand up, grabbing the things, and make my way out of the building with her. The car is nice and warm, and I find myself feeling glad for it as we make the short and quiet drive to the Washington's house.

"Thank you, so much," I mumble as we walk inside.

Martha smiles at me. "Of course, Alexander. Here, you go wash your face, I'll bring you some clothes, then make you some food. You look starving, child."

I nod humbly and head to the bathroom, finding a washcloth and washing the tears off my cheeks. Martha knocks on the door and hands me a new hoodie and some sweatpants, that most likely are Washington's. But, I put them on anyway, rolling up the legs so they don't drag. I step out of the bathroom and am greeted with amazing smells. It smells like John's house on the night his great grandma would cook dinner. Like a southern delicacy.

"Hon, I'm heating up some fried green tomatoes, fried chicken, mac n cheese, and sweet potatoes. Does that sound like enough?" Martha asks, a bit of a southern accent shining through her honey flavored voice.

I nod happily. "That sounds wonderful."

Martha nods. "Okay, and Georgie made some blueberry ice cream the other day, so I'll get you some of that if you want."

"That would be wonderful, thank you," I tell her, my smile wide on my face. The moment she sets down my plate, I'm digging in. The food tastes wonderful, and due to her southern brains, she's given me triple portions of everything.

"I'm guessing you're hungry," Martha chuckles, sitting down next to me with tea and a few shortbread cookies.

I nod. "You have no idea."

She leans forward, holding her mug with two hands. "Now tell me, is my husband behaving in class? He's not encouraging political scandals to any of you, correct?"

I shake my head and laugh. "No, no he's being a perfectly wonderful teacher."

Martha sits back and nods contently. "Well, I would hope so. I must say, it's nice to have his favorite student staying here, even if it's just for the night."

Blood flushes to my cheeks. "I can't be his favorite."

Martha chuckles. "Alex, you are most definitely his favorite. You have no idea how many times he's woken me up to read me snippets from your essays. He's always talking about what you did in class, or what your essay said. I love hearing about it, though. He gets super excited when he assigns stuff because of you. He'll come home whistling and tell me about what he assigned and how he's excited to hear your take on it. I swear you and Lafayette are the first students who have ever made him this happy to teach."

I smile. "Well, I'm glad I could do that."

Martha and I talk a little longer, then I realize I can't stay awake any longer. Martha leads me kindly up to a neat guest room. I turn to her and hug her gently, thanking her for letting me stay here, then I lie down. It takes a second for my body to recognize that I'm in a bed. That I can sleep for as long as I want. But, once it does, it seems that once it does, it can't help but shut down and sleep. My last thought though, right before I fall into a dreamless REM cycle filled sleep, is how grateful I am for Washington. He really is like a dad sometimes.


	29. A tall nonfat sugarfree vanilla latte with caramel drizzle and cinnamon sprinkle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's Starbucks order is longer than my dick

/Alex/

The first night at the Washington's I slept from about nine am Friday to eight am Saturday. When I woke up, Washington changed my bandages and then brought me downstairs for a large breakfast, full of eggs, bacon, cheesy grits, cornbread, and orange juice. After almost a week of barely eating, the food they were providing was really nice. I ended up staying there the weekend, then the week. I meant to leave sooner, but I had nowhere to go, and Washington didn't seem unhappy at all that I was here.

The Monday I got back to school I was greeted by a guilty looking Jefferson. He looked a bit askew and his head hung low. James, Laf, Aaron, and Angelica were all watching him with bitter faces. He started out with apologizing, then explained he had no excuse for his actions, and he was sorry for being so rude and not even asking if I was okay. I was still a little hurt by what he said, but I told him it was water under the bridge and we all went and sat together in my corner. It's weird, Aaron, Angelica, Laf and I all sat in the middle, and Jefferson and James in the back for the majority of the class, but now we're all sitting together in the corner I banished myself after the fight with John. It's nice. I have people who will be there even at my worst. Like the Washingtons, who have been letting me sleep and stay at their house. They've also been feeding me, and we very often spend our evenings reading together. So, here the three of us sit on a Friday evening, the fire blazing, mugs of hot cocoa in our hands, books in our laps. Soft jazz plays gently for background music.

"Well," I say as my eyes start to droop. "I think it is time for me to retire to my room. Thank you, for everything."

Washington chuckles. "You can stop thanking us, Alexander. My house is your house."

I smile and stand up. "Goodnight, everyone."

"Goodnight," Martha chimes.

"Sleep well," Washington adds.

I make my way upstairs to my guest room. Washington has let me borrow clothes so I do have clean clothes to sleep in. Martha washed my original outfit so I did have clean jeans and a clean tee shirt. I hadn't seen John yet, but Angie has been giving me updates. She says he's been missing classes and is still drinking, but not as much. Now he's just plain depressed. He's been staying at his dorm, Eliza, and Maria checking up on him. He did get a lecture spot in a museum, and he was going to talk about how Seaworld is abusive and how we need to shut it down and put funding towards animal sanctuaries. Hearing about him makes me want to talk to him, make things better, but I just don't really know how. I've been talking to Laf about how I could do it, but I still am a little bit clueless. So, I fall asleep thinking about John.

I was back in Nevis. It was still raining lightly, but the storm was over. I was walking through the body littered street, blood soaking through my shirt and jeans. I felt weak, I felt tired. I was just looking for a place to stay. Then, I saw something. A body, like the others, but different. I recognized that hair. That sweet brown skin. So, I slowly approached it. I moved some debris and rubble and then gasp. Lying in front of me is John. His face is stained with blood, his eyes are wide open and glazed over. I push him but he won't respond. I press my fingers to his neck, but there's no pulse. John is dead.

I wake up screaming bloody murder. My heart is breaking as tears roll down my face. I'm thrashing so much that I fall off the bed, hitting the floor with a thud. I'm crying out, trying to get the images of John's bloodstained face and dead eyes out of my mind. I can't though, I just keep replaying it over and over in my brain. He wouldn't wake up. He wouldn't wake up.

"Alex!" Says a voice. My sobbing form is pulled into a pair of arms. I recognize them as Washington, but keep crying. Usually, I'd get nightmares like this and John would be there to hold me and sing me back to sleep, but not tonight. So, I stay in my professor's arms, crying my eyes out. I've never had a dream like this. Yes, I've had dreams about the hurricane, but I've never had a dream that involves both the storm and John. I've never had a dream where my John died. This is a totally new thing.

"Alex, what happened?" Washington asks me gently when I calm down.

I sigh, still leaning against him. "I, my John, god. I was back in Nevis, my home. The storm was over. I was, I was in the street, like when I was just a kid. I was so hungry and tired, and I saw him. I saw his body. He was, he was dead!" My voice breaks into a sob again. "He was dead! Oh my god!"

"Hey, hey, Alexander, he's okay, he's okay," Washington whispers gently, running his hand through my hair.

I continue crying. "I miss him so much."

"Son, I think you and him should meet up today. Talk, at least," Washington tells me.

I sigh, wiping some tears from my cheeks. "What time is it?"

"It's about seven am. Alex, you need to talk to him. No matter what, if you aren't speaking to him, you're always going to be feeling bad," Washington tells me. "Martha and I always have to talk about what happened after a fight."

"Monday morning, we fought a little bit, and when I got back to the dorm after class, he kissed me. He said he was sorry. I, I was going to take things further, and then he stopped me and said we should talk about what happened, that we should fix this. I was the one who was too stubborn to. It was my fault. This is all my fault. I caused us to fight more, I caused this." I run my hands over my face.

Washington pauses, thinking for a second. "There is never any use in dwelling on your mistakes. They have already been made. You cannot change that. What you can do, though, is make things right. That is the only thing in your power, Alexander. This is an injustice to both you and John. Correct it. I know you can. I wouldn't give you such good grades if I didn't think so."

I nod, sighing. "Okay. Thank you. You know, most teachers hated me."

"Why would they hate you? You're incredibly intelligent. You are one of the most study dedicated students I've ever had." Washington sounds shocked.

I laugh and lean back against the bed. "Well, as smart as I am, apparently they don't like it when students act like me."

Washington shrugs a bit. "Well, what did you act like?"

A small smirk reaches my lips. "Uh, well, often times I would take over the class a little bit and be the teacher. And I would debate a lot. With the teacher. Also, one time, I proved this super smart white kid wrong and he got so upset that they literally sent me to the principal's office because apparently I was 'bullying' him. It's not my fault he was wrong. I just made sure he knew he was wrong."

Washington smiles. "Alexander, you really are one of my favorite students. I'm gonna miss you when you graduate."

"I'm not leaving New York. John and talked about this. We wanted to go here because we want to live here. So, you'll see me around," I state.

He looks at me. "You good?"

I nod. "Yeah, I'll be down in a few. I just gotta get the balls to text my mans."

Washington stands up and stretches. "You think your wrist is healed enough? Or does it still need bandages?"

"No, no." I shake my head. "It's healed. Thank you though."

He smiles and nods, then leaves the room. I stand up, stretching, then reach for my phone. I open the text app and click on John's log. My fingers loom over the letters for a little bit. What do I even say? I've never had to do this before. I decide though, that it would be better if everything I needed to say would be better said in person, so I decide on something simple.

Me: Hey.

Waiting for a message back without anything else to do would decidedly be agonizing, so I start to get dressed. I slip on the only pair of jeans I've been wearing all week, though they have been washed, and then a white tee shirt Washington lent me. I'm about to slip on my hoodie when my phone buzzes. I practically dive onto the bed to see who it's from.

John: Hi

My head speeds up as I think of a reply. What do I say? Do I tell him I love him? Do I begin to the conversation now? No, no we need to talk about this in person. We need to meet up. So, I think of a place to take him, a place where we can talk alone. The only place I can think of is a place where I would go to write sometimes.

Me: Meet me in the Riverside Church, inside. I'll be in the upstairs pews. No one will be there. Say, two o'clock? I'll bring coffee.

John: Okay

Me: Yeah

John: Alex?

Me: Yes, John?

John: I love you. See you at two

Me: I love you too. See you then

I sigh and bury my face in the pillow. It's gonna be okay. We're going to be okay. I just have to keep telling myself that. John and I have made it through all sorts of things; John's drinking, our sketchy police experiences, my workaholism, anything under the sun basically. So, if we can do that, then we can do this. I just have to make sure things go okay.

I tie my hair back as I walk downstairs to the breakfast table, where Washington sits with Martha reading a newspaper. Martha is reading through bills and writing checks. It's quiet, with music playing in the background, so I serve myself up a pancake and begin writing in my notebook. Just little bits of writing go in notebooks. Mostly just drafts or outlines of essays, the occasional poem, every now and then a letter. It's nice to write on paper though. I feel like I stare at a screen so much, so whenever I'm not staring at a screen, just watching my pen glide over the endless amounts of paper. Pen and paper got me out of hell. I wrote my way out of Nevis. I wrote my way into college. I wrote John love letters. My words are louder than the crack in the bell. When God met my prayers with indifference, I picked up a pen and I wrote my own deliverance. My legacy is made of ink, and it's stained on paper.

"I texted John," I say, breaking the silence.

Martha looks up. "You did? What, what happened?"

I look down and smile, blushing. "We're, we're meeting up today at two. And, we, uh, we told each other we loved each other. Just, sort of out of nowhere. For the first time in two weeks. So, that's good, I guess."

Washington smiles. "Well, you better wear something nice. It seems you and him have some catching up to do."

I smile and look back down at my notebook, continuing to write. When breakfast is done, I head back up to my room and then to the bathroom to shower. I make sure I'm clean, then dry and brush my hair. It's gotten longer since I got in college, but recently Martha cut it for me, so now I have sort of bangs hanging in my face. John hasn't seen me like that yet. I'm not used to thicker amounts of hair falling in my face when my hair is in a ponytail, but I'm getting used to it. I don't exactly mind how it looks.

I head back into my room and put on the outfit I was wearing when John asked me to leave, then I grab a blanket and curl up in the living room with a book. That lasts for about an hour, but then I realize I need to pump myself up to see John, so I put on my headphones and begin blasting Eye Of The Tiger while rehearsing what I'm going to say. I begin pacing a bit as I mumble things under my breath, shaking my head when I say the wrong thing, going back and repeating sentences. Anxiety is pooling up in my stomach, but, at one thirty, I say goodbye to the Washington's and head out to a coffee shop nearby.

"Hello, my name is Sally, what can I get you?" Says the dark-skinned girl I recognize as my server from the time I came here with Angie.

"Hey, can I have a tall nonfat sugar free vanilla latte with caramel drizzle and cinnamon sprinkle, and then a tall black coffee," I state, pulling out the last of my cash.

"I'll have that right out," Sally says, taking my money and handing me a little bit of change. I wait by the counter for a few minutes until Sally hands me my coffee. I sigh and begin walking to the church. I've never really been religious, but I do find a calming sense falling over me when I'm in a church, so I often sit in the pews to write. Maybe it'll be easier to talk to John here. But God, I'm terrified.

I make it to the church and go upstairs to the pews. Choir practice looks like it's about to start, so I sit and wait, sipping my coffee. What if this goes wrong? What if I fuck it up again? John and I have always been able to make up, but we've never gotten into a fight this big. I do know, despite all the unsureness that sits in my stomach, whatever happens here, it's going to define what John and I are going to be. I just hope this ends well because if it doesn't, I don't know what I'd do. I can't live at the Washington's forever, though I'm sure they'd let me. But I can't. It's just, I can't.

My head shoots up when I see someone walk in. I turn to see my John. He looks tired. He stops for a moment in the doorway, maintaining eye contact with me, then comes and sits next to me as the choir starts to sing. I hand him his coffee and he takes a sip. A small smile comes to his lips as he realizes I remembered his favorite latte at Starbucks.

We both sigh together and look to the choir. I scoot closer to John so that we're touching gently. We sip our coffee and listen to the voices. They do sound quite angelic, and the acoustics in the church are gorgeous. So, John and I sit there for a while, listening to them. He's nodding lightly to the music. My eyes are closed and I'm just enjoying the scene of John. I missed him. He smells like vodka sweat, but also citrus and old spice. I can tell he's not drunk, just kinda hungover. It's nice to just be in John's company, even if we're not talking.

I'm a bit surprised when John gently places his hand on my knee. His touch is warm, though, and I savor it. To make sure he knows that his touch is welcomed, I place my hand over his, holding it. And we stay like that for about an hour, just watching the choir sing, listening to it calmly. By the time they're done singing, we're both done with our coffee, so I stand up. I can tell John almost thinks I'm going to leave him, so I hold out my hand for him to take. He takes it and stands, then we both begin to walk back to campus together, ridding ourselves of our cups. He ends up following me back to the Washington's. I sigh and turn to him as we stop in front of the house. He looks almost content, despite the sadness in his eyes.

"Hi," I whisper.

"Can," John starts, his voice breaking a bit. "Can I hug you?"

I don't hesitate to pull him into a hug. I bury my face in his neck and let his arms wrap around my waist. My shoulders begin to shake as I start to cry, and from the sound of his breathing, he's crying too. We can't seem to let go, only cling to each other and cry. I didn't realize how much I missed his body. He gently presses his lips to my neck and pulls my hair out of the ponytail. I let out a small sound as he runs his fingers through my freshly washed hair, calming me down and drying my tears.

"I missed you," I whisper gently, moving so I can see his face.

John gently places his hands on my cheeks and presses his forehead to mine. "My dear boy, you have no idea."

I sigh, placing my hand over his. "Should we, should we sit down?"

John nods and we sit down on the stoop, our hands together. I lean my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes. For a few seconds, we just sit there, breathing and watching our breath rise in the cold air. I was clinging onto John's hands like they were keeping me alive. Finally, though, the cold afternoon silence is broken by John.

"I shouldn't have attacked you so much that morning. You had a right to get defensive. I didn't think that maybe working might be a coping mechanism for you, or just how hard you worked to get here and how scared you were that you were going to lose your scholarship. My sarcasm was unnecessary and rude. I should've also asked you why you felt alone in this, I shouldn't have just left," John states.

"I'm sorry for what I did that afternoon. Everything I said, everything I did, it was unfair to you. I shouldn't have said those things about your dyslexia. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you for talking to Eliza about this. I have no excuse." I hang my head shamefully.

"God," John laughs. "The first fight we get into totally wrecks us."

I shake my head. "Not totally."

His lips press against my head. "No, not totally."

A long sigh escapes my lungs. "We gotta, we gotta take time, really talk about this. Like, we can't knock it all out on my professor's front steps. We, we need to work on this. We need to figure stuff out. It's going to take work."

John nods. "I know. Thankfully though, one of us is incredibly smart and realistic and the other is me."

"Square up you beautiful bitch, I fight anyone who insults my boyfriend," I state, looking up at him and smiling.

John laughs and gently presses his lips against mine. I lean into the kiss and smile against his lips. He brushes some hair away from my face and hugs me gently, pulling me closer to him. I can't help but laugh out of pure bliss, happy to have John's tongue back in my mouth. It almost feels likes everything is okay again. I know him and I have a lot to do, but at least we have each other. At least we have this moment.

"I made hot chocolate!" Martha chimes, interrupting our moment. "Oh, sorry. Ha, I'll just give these to you and leave."

"Thank you, Martha," I state, smiling as I take a mug from her. John takes a mug from her as well and she leaves us alone to sip the sweet drink.

"Has anything happened in these past two weeks?" John asks me gently, trying to catch up with my life.

I shrug. "I did a whole project with Jefferson, and we only fought once. I'm pretty sure Angelica has the hots for a waitress named Sally, and I found out that the Washington's always have food to eat. Like there's never nothing to eat. Seriously, I mentioned I was a tad bit hungry at one point and before I could ask what they had, Martha had handed me banana bread with butter and a glass of milk."

John laughs and sips his drink. "Of course."

I wipe some hot chocolate off of my lip and look at him. "What about you? Anything new going on?"

John smiles, looking down. "Uh, well, I actually have a lecture. Like, I'm the guy talking. I'm the speaker. Remember that aquarium we went to when we first moved to New York where we watched that lecturer and that blonde guy flirted with you?"

I nod, laughing a bit as I sip my drink.

"Well," John begins, "my marine biology professor basically signed me up and told me I was doing a presentation on why corporations like Sea World are terrible for the animals and why we need to focus more on marine life hospitals instead of basically animal abuse."

"When?" I ask.

John looks down, the smile apparent on his face. "Well, it's tomorrow if you'd like to come. At two."

I nod, gently kissing his cheek. "Why, I do believe I would like to come."

John and I talk a little longer, John mentioning he liked my new bangs, then finally decide that it's dinner time and we should probably retire. I explain that I would like to spend another night at the Washington's, just to think about things, and he nodded understandingly. Then he told me that if I would like to come back tomorrow night, he would be more than happy. I smiled and kissed him, then bid him goodnight and watched him walk away.

"So, how was that?" Washington asks from the living room couch as I step inside.

I nod happily. "It was, it was nice. He's the speaker at a lecture tomorrow so I'm gonna go and see that. Um, we didn't really talk until we made it back here. But, we did decide that it be best we sort all the big things out in a better situation, so we kept the conversation light."

"As much as we love you here, Alex, I have to ask, what's gonna be your living situation looking forward?" Washington continues.

"Well, he invited me to come back tonight, but I told him I just wanted to spend one more night here to think about things, but I think tomorrow I'm going back to my dorm. Thank you, really, for letting me stay here," I say, sitting down next to Washington.

He pulls me into a hug, making me feel very protected. "It was wonderful to house you, Alexander. Whenever you need a friend, a meal, or a place to stay, do not hesitate to come over. We loved your company."

I smile. "Thank you."

I don't know how I'm ever going to repay Washington or Martha for letting me stay here, but I do know that in this past week, I've truly felt like I have a family.


	30. Seaworld is BAD (not an opinion)

/John/

I get to the lecture hall around noon to help set up. Hercules volunteered to help too, even though it's mostly just making sure the chairs are out and the powerpoint is ready to go. He claims that I might want his designer's eye, but I know it's just because Laf has recently gotten into Mama Mia and had been singing it non stop for the past four days. I can't blame Herc, I would need a break from that too. I remember when Alex got really into Les Miserables and I had to actually just start playing other music before he got the chance to burst into song.

"Okay, so spill," Herc says as I turn on the projector to set up my slide show.

"About what?" I ask, hooking up my laptop.

"Come on, I saw you and Alex yesterday. Walking, holding hands, doing that couple shit. What's the deal?" Herc asks, smiling.

I shrug. "Well, he's coming to the lecture, and, um, maybe spending the night in the dorm tonight. I don't know, he had been staying at the Washington's I guess."

"Only for this week though. Last week was a mess, Laf told me about it. He didn't even finish a project, which is weird for Alex, because he always finishes his projects," Herc informs me, walking around the stage.

"Was he okay?" I ask, signing in and finding the presentation.

Herc shrugs. "I couldn't get much more out of Laf except that Alex wasn't eating enough and he was tired."

"That's usually Alex, though," I point out.

"He started crying," Herc finishes.

I raise my eyebrows. "That, that is not usually Alex."

A shrug comes from Herc. "Laf wouldn't tell me much more. He did mention though that Alex was doing better when he started living with the Washingtons."

"That's good," I comment.

I continue to set up while Hercules sings and raps for and with me. At once point we start freestyling back and forth, trying to see who can out rap each other. It ends with Hercules jumping off stage and screaming the F-word as well as a few other words, then an employee coming in and telling us to be quiet. I quickly apologized and then scolded Herc for getting me in trouble. He just laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Finally, people start entering. I invited everyone to come, and everyone decided they could come, so I reserved a few seats for my Alexander, Thomas, James, Herc, Laf, Maria, Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy. The first ones to show up are the Schuyler sisters. They all look beautiful, strutting down the aisle to the front, where I sit on the stage, talking to Herc.

"Johnathan, baby boy, you look gorgeous," Angelica says, leaning up and kissing my cheek. "This place looks wonderful."

"Thank you, Angie," I reply, smiling as they sit down. More people walk in, including Maria, Burr, and Theodosia. They all come up to the front, smiling at us. Maria sits down in her spot next to Eliza, while Aaron and Theo talk to me.

"So, is Alex coming?" Theo asks, trying to sound casual.

"Theo, my goodness," Aaron mumbles.

"What? I wanna know," Theo replies.

I laugh at the two's bickering. "Yes, yes he is. He has a reserved seat and everything."

"Oh, that's good. It'll be nice to see Alex out and doing something normal, besides studying and eating," Aaron jokes, going to sit down in his seat with Theo.

The minutes until it's time for me to start getting shorter and Alex still hasn't shown. I'm beginning to get worried. Even Jefferson and Madison have shown up, and they apologized for being late. I had about two minutes until it was two and I was beginning to lose hope. Alex was never late, and if he was, he wouldn't show up. It was that simple. Maybe he didn't want to come, maybe he wants to break up.

"There's still time," Angie tells me gently.

I sigh. "I start in one minute."

"Better late than never," Eliza points out.

"I shouldn't have, I don't know, maybe he's just not ready to-"

I'm cut off by the sound of feet pounding against the floor. I look up to see a flustered Alex running down the aisle, a notebook and pencil in his hand. He looks worried, his hair is a bit of a mess, and he's just wearing a hoodie and some jeans, which means he was probably cold. I almost laugh at him. I've never seen him like this. He's never been late. Not once. Ever. Once time our bus in South Carolina broke down three miles from the school and he ran there, making it to class ten minutes before the first bell rung.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm here! The subway was crowded and I missed the train and it was cold and I-"

I cut off his excuses by hopping off the stage and planting a kiss on his lips. "I'm glad you could make it."

He smiles, brushing some hair away from my face. "Go get em, Laurens."

I peck him on the lips one last time and then hop up onto the stage right as the clock strikes two. I'm surprised to see how many people are here. I really didn't expect that. I mean, I'm not like, some famous speaker who you have to pay to see. I'm not even getting paid to do this. It's just me, doing my thing, in front of a bunch of people who I don't know. I almost get nervous, but then I look down and see my Alexander, smiling at me, encouraging me. So I open my mouth and begin. I start talking about Sea World, it's history, the death rate. I end up glancing down to see Alex is writing, but, he keeps looking at up at me, stopping his writing for a second, and then writing a few more things down. Is he... taking notes?

"Before I move on to this next bit, does anyone have any questions?" I ask. Alex's hand shoots up and I point to him.

He stands up, turning his body so that everyone could see and hear him. "Mr. Laurens, could you tell me the difference between Seaworld and marine animal sanctuaries? They do both hold the animals in a confined area, what is the difference?"

I smile. "Yes! Wonderful question. The difference between a marine life sanctuary and Seaworld is that the sanctuaries only hold the animals until they are well enough to go back to the ocean. For instance, they wouldn't hold a perfectly healthy killer whale there just for show. They would hold a sick killer whale until it was better and then release it. Which actually brings me into my next segment." I continue to talk about how animals and how the stress levels of said animals are higher than average.

About an hour later, I'm done. I got more questions throughout the lecture, and everyone seemed pretty positive and interested. Alex continued taking notes. About halfway through, he had to pull out a new pen, which surprised me because he usually only needs new pens when he's writing about something he really cares about.

"How was it?" I ask, hopping on the stage and standing in front of my friends.

"Oh my god! You were so good! You just, like, totally commanded the crowd and you had so much research and information, I loved it!" Alex squeals, jumping into my arms. I hug him back, feeling happy that he was here.

"Come on, lovebirds, we're all going back to the Schuyler's and eating pizza," Aaron says, smiling. I wrap my arm around Alex's waist and we all head out of the lecture hall and to the Schuyler's apartment. I hold Alex as tight as I can, trying to make up for the lost two weeks.

I spent most of that time drunk. I'm not gonna lie, it got pretty bad. I wasn't showing up for my classes, Eliza was basically babysitting me. I cried a lot, especially when I was wasted. Eliza and Maria had to spend a few nights in my dorm to make sure I wouldn't do anything bad. I didn't, but I might've if they weren't there. I don't really remember those two weeks, because I was blackout drunk for most of it. I do remember dreaming about seeing Alex after class, but I knew it was just a drunken hallucination, so I turned and walked away. Speaking of doing bad things, I hope Alex doesn't think I didn't notice the light brown stains on his hoodie sleeve. I'm gonna pray he just spilled coffee on himself, though I know that most likely was not the case.

"Guys, what music do we want?" Angelica asks as Eliza calls the pizza place to order some food.

"Play your personal playlist, it has some cool music," Peggy requests, pulling out some wine and ginger ale, as well as a few bottles of rose lemonade. Alex takes a bottle of rose lemonade while I take a bottle of ginger ale. We all sit down in the living room, relaxing and sipping whatever beverage we've chosen to drink from. Angelica has turned on some soft R&B and come over, sitting with us. Eliza finishes ordering the pizza and sits down next to Maria, hugging her closely.

"Okay, so Maria, are you still with fuck face?" I ask, my hand resting on Alex's leg.

"His name is mister James Reynolds, and yes, technically, I am. But the breakup date is tomorrow, so I'm only with him for the next twenty hours," Maria informs me, smiling.

"Where are you gonna live?" Thomas asks, sipping some Rose.

"Well," Eliza starts. "Maria was going to move in with us."

"This apartment is going to be filled with all girls," James jokes.

"James, are you high? It's already filled with girls," Hercules points. "In all reality though, Maria, do you want us to come over and help you pack up your things?"

The girl, wearing a red tee shirt and some black skinny jeans, nods, and smiles. "That would actually be great. I don't think I could face James alone, but, I dunno, with people like you guys behind me, supporting me, I could finally get up the balls to break up with him."

"Why are you so scared of him? If I can ask," Aaron questions, running his fingers through Theodosia's hair.

Maria shrugs. "He, he just, he yells a lot. When he's mad he can be pretty scary. He once punched a hole in the wall because I forgot to make food. I don't know, he's just kinda scary. I mean, he has his good parts, but, he also has a lot of bad parts."

"Mm, girl, we don't like relationships like that. It's good you're leaving him," Laf says. "He sounds like a dick."

"Don't date white guys," she jokes.

Peggy gags. "Gross, a white guy? Thank god you're leaving him. White guys are gross. I dated one once and his dick was only-"

"And everyone give a hand for Peggy. Thanks for your input," Angelica says loudly, cutting her sister off. "But, Maria, for real, we'll assemble our most scary looking people to come with you. Alright, everyone, who's scary?"

"I can be pretty intimidating," I mention.

"Herc is just tall and buff, my thick man," Laf says.

"Alex and I both fight a lot, so we're pretty good at being scary, even if Alex only goes up to my shin," Thomas says.

"Whatever, you magenta looking fucker. Maria, we both got your back," Alex laughs.

"And then the Schuyler sisters. We're pretty scary. I know Eliza is basically the human version of cotton candy, she can be scary when she wants to," Angelica says.

Maria looks down, leaning against Eliza. "You guys are too good. I never thought I'd have friends like you."

I smile. "Hey man, it's one for all and all for one, we're always gonna be behind you."

Maria smiles a bit. "Alex, John, what about you two? There was pretty much radio silence between the both of you for two weeks, and now y'all are acting like it never happened."

Alex shrugs. "We still gotta talk about some stuff, figure out how to prevent future versions of this situation. But, we both missed each other dearly, so while we have some stuff to work out, we're doing it the way we should've in the first place, we're gonna talk about it."

"Yay! Y'all ain't fighting anymore!" Jefferson cheers.

"I got worried about the two of you for a while. No offense, but you guys were messes. It's nice to see the both of you smiling again," James tells us.

I smile and lean against Alex, holding his hand. "It's nice to see him smiling again."

We make our way through the night until finally, we decide it's time to leave. We're walking down the hall, but then Lafayette sticks his head out of the apartment. He calls Alex back for a second, leaving me standing there for a second. Lafayette's face is serious. He grabs Alex's wrist, but Alex pulls away and says something back, then walks over to me again, smiling, like nothing ever happened.

"Are you ready?" He asks.

I nod. "What was that about?"

Alex laughs, taking my hand. "Oh, nothing. Just Laf being silly, you know."

My head cocks. "He seemed to be pretty serious."

Alex shrugs. "Let's talk about it tonight. Hey, can we run by the Washington's to grab my things? It's not a lot, just my laptop bag and stuff."

"Shit," I mumble. "You just spent two weeks with nothing but the clothes on your back and your laptop."

Alex chuckles. "It was fine. That's how I usually go anyway. Washington let me use his washer and dryer."

I sigh, pulling him closer to me as we walk. We end up walking the rest of the way back to the dorm in silence, briefly stopping at Washington's house to collect Alex's things. He said goodbye and thanked the Washington's, then joined me again. I held his hands gently until we made it back to our dorm. Alex sighed as I opened the door, but then stopped short when he saw all the empty liquor bottles on the floor.

"Oh, yeah." I chuckle nervously. "I picked up an old hobby while you were gone."

"Well," starts Alex. "Let's get the place cleaned up."

So, we turn on some music and spend about half an hour picking up the place; putting the bottles and old takeout boxes into trash bags and picking up the laundry. Alex turns on a fan and opens the door while we do to air out the room of its vodka/vomit/depressed college kid smell. Alex doesn't say anything about the amount of alcohol I drank, he doesn't ask where I got the alcohol, and he doesn't why I drank so much of it, he just helps me clean up my mess.

When we finish, he strips down and pulls out a hoodie and some boxers from the closet, then slips them on. I find some sweatpants and a tee shirt, then slip those on too. We both sit down on my bed, Alex cuddled up close to me. I sigh and lean back, treasuring the feeling of Alex in my arms. It had truly been a long too weeks, and I forgot how much I missed just lying with him. These are the moment when I can't think of anything to say, all I can do is hold him. All I can do is love him.

"I think you should go to a doctor," Alex mumbles gently, moving a bit.

"Why so?" I ask.

"You went on a bender, it's never bad to get yourself checked out," Alex informs me, gently rubbing my chest.

I sigh. "Can you give me an honest answer to something?"

He nods.

"Do you think I'm an alcoholic?" I question.

A long breath comes from him. "I know you don't think you're an alcoholic, so I'm not going to label you as one. But, since you are asking what I would see from my own eyes, then yes, I do think you are an alcoholic. Here's why: you have been drinking since the eighth grade, and every time you go on a bender like this, it's always because someone bad happened. From your parents fighting, to your great grandma dying. And every time you do, it's hard for you to stop. I'm sure your kidneys have suffered from it, and you have a family history of alcoholism. If you don't want to call yourself an alcoholic, then that's okay. I'm not going to try and convince you, but can you at least agree that you have a problem?"

I nod. "I know I have a problem. I've always known I have. I just, I don't want to call myself an alcoholic because, because that makes me just like my dad. I don't want to be just like my dad. The man called my mom a whore, called both of us fags, he's just, he's a horrible person, Alex. I don't want to be like him."

"You're not, John. You never will be like your dad. I promise you. By just being the person you are, you have already proved you're ten times the man he'll ever be." Alex gently plants a kiss on my neck. "If you were your father, I would not have fallen in love with you. But you are Johnathan Laurens. You took advantage of my sensibility and stole my affections. You did that by being exactly who you are. I promise you, admitting you are an alcoholic will not turn you into a homophobic Trump supporting dick who insults his family. It just means you can work to get better."

I nod. "Okay. I, I'll talk to my doctor about it."

Alex kisses my jaw. "That's all I ask."

"Do you need to tell me anything? Anything you did during this time?" I ask, gently brushing my hand against the wrist that stained his sweater.

He laughs bitterly. "Did someone tell you? Was is Burr? Thomas?"

I shake my head. "You did a good job at getting the stain out, but you didn't soak it overnight. They all knew?"

Alex sighs. "Last Friday, um, I didn't finish the group project I was doing with Jefferson. He lost it one me. He was yelling, then everyone was yelling, and I reopened some shit, and then it soaked through my hoodie. Laf saw, and I'm sure the rest of them did too. Don't worry, Washington made sure they were cleaned and healing."

"Can, can I see?" I ask softly.

Alex sighs and pulls up his sleeve carefully. These ones are deeper than the ones he did back in high school, but I don't say that. They're healing, they look clean, and though they were deep, the scarring shouldn't be too bad. It makes me sad that he did this though. All because of this stupid fight. We can't fight like this again. We just, we can't. We have to figure something else out. We have to fix this.

"It's gonna be okay," I mumble, pulling him closer to me.

"God, can we just like, never fight again?" Alex mumbles.

I laugh. "Okay. I'm down for that. Let's talk more tomorrow night. I think we made some progress, and I know you're probably tired. Besides, we gotta help Maria tomorrow, so there's that too. We're probably going to have to bring the truck we haven't used since Christmas too. I'm excited to get Maria out of that place. She deserves a happy relationship."

"She do, she do. Eliza is good though, her and Maria are gonna be good," Alex mumbles, his voice growing tired.

"Mkay, g'night baby girl. I love you," I whisper, holding him close to my chest.

His hands trail down my sides a bit, his head buried in my neck. "Night, galaxy boy."


	31. Bryce Vine makes fucking BOPS

/John/

I drive in the truck with Herc, Thomas, The Schuyler's, Alex, and Maria. Peggy has ended up in Angelica's lap, and Maria in Eliza's lap. It's crowded, but I was the only one with a truck so we had to take it. Alex, who is sitting with Hercules and me up front, is squished in the middle. Thankfully, he's taken charge of the radio and I'm driving in New York traffic at ten in the morning to Bryce Vine and Quinn XCII. Everyone in the car seems to be jamming out to the music because they're all dancing and singing very loudly, making it hard to focus on the road. But, we do eventually make it to Maria's soon to be old apartment.

"Johnny!" She calls out as we all enter her apartment. "Come and connect your phone to the speaker and continue with those sick beats you were playing in the car!"

"Okay, one sec," I call out as I set a few empty boxes down. I walk over to the Bose speaker and begin playing the music. Maria puts it in the kitchen and then gathers us around to talk about what she needs. I get a chance to look around the pace. The walls are brick, with white paint over them. Accents of green. A large sectional in the living room, stretching from wall to wall. It's a small apartment, so the couch just isn't really helping. The kitchen looks mostly clean, a few dishes in the sink. The whole place just looks really clean. I feel like Maria's boyfriend doesn't have a whole lot to do with that.

"Okay, firstly, I would like to say thank you for coming and helping me. I couldn't do this without you," Maria starts.

"We're happy to be here," Eliza states.

Maria smiles and blushes. "Secondly, I just want to give you guys an outline of what you need to pack. The Schuyler's and I will be packing up my old room. Herc, John, Alex, Thomas, can you guys handle packing up pictures and the TV? I know I don't really need to bring the TV but I paid for that thing with my own money, so I want it back. I just need you guys to bubble wrap the pictures and pack the TV safely if you please. James won't be back for another hour and a half, so we have some time. Again, thank you all for being here."

"We wouldn't have it any other way, Maria," Alex smiles.

"I promise I'll buy you all beer and pizza," she tells us, leaning into Eliza a little bit.

Instantly, a wave of our voices saying 'no, Maria, you really don't have to,' and Thomas' voice saying 'well if you insist,' washes over the room.

"Come on you idiots," Angelica smiles, tying her cornrowed hair back into a bun. "Let's get to work."

We all set off to do our jobs. Herc, Thomas, Alex, and I are all sitting in the living room, bubble wrapping picture frames and art from Maria's walls. It's a lot of really nice art, all by her. She really is an amazing artist.

"So, like, Thomas, how did you and James even, like, end up together? He's so... you're so..." Alex gives Thomas a look of wonder.

"Well," Thomas starts, laughing a bit. "As you know, after James moved from Sudan, he was living in Virginia. Around this time, we were both ten. It's was about halfway into the first semester of fourth grade, and this skinny kid who reached up to about my chest walks into the classroom. Now, being in fourth grade, I didn't even know I was into dick, but like, I did think he was awfully cute, something I would tease him about often. So, the teacher sat him next to me, and he just looked so nervous. He was wearing a huge sweater, some old jeans. He was small, so I thought to myself 'do you know what I need? A pet.' So, I sat with him at lunch and befriended him. Middle school was when he barely grew, just reaching five foot four, and I shot up to about five foot eight, and then six foot at the beginning of high school. So, like, we were kinda referred to as the yin and yang. The short, sickly, quiet kid with the tall, loud, dick who loved to start fights. Um, I guess we never really took things farther until I came back from France. I went to France for a year to study, but ended up doing coke and fucking Laf, sorry for that image Herc."

Hercules gags. "Nasty. I don't want to think of my boyfriend fucking this magenta shit."

Thomas pretends to look offended. "I'm hurt. So, anyway, I come back from France, and, like, I sort of just realize how much I missed him. Flash forward to about a week later, we're at the library studying together, and I sort of just kissed him. Like, I didn't really know what I was doing until I was doing it. James was surprised at first, but then kissed back. Of course, after a few minutes of us making out, he started to have an asthma attack and we spent the next fifteen minutes calming him down and finding the medication he needs, and then we just, sort of, continued with that. We balance each other out. James is calm and collected, grounded too, while I am a bit wild and loud."

Suddenly, we hear laughing coming from the bedroom. Our curiosity gets the best of us and we all get up to go see what's going on. In the bedroom, Maria, Eliza, and Angelica are laughing their asses off as Peggy dances around with... a condom on her head? It is! It's all the way down past her nose. Every time she breathes out, the condom inflates, giving her a sort of unicorn horn on her head.

"What on God's good earth is happening?" Hercules mutters, laughing.

"My dad told me I can be anything I want, so I'm gonna be a unicorn!" Peggy laughs, blowing up the condom again.

"What the actual fuck," I deadpan.

"Gentleman, let's go back and enjoy our refined culture, in the living room, boxing up artwork," Herc says, laughing as he walks back towards to the living. We all follow him and sit back down, continuing with our work.

"John, Alex, why did it take you two so long to get together? What was the holdup?" Thomas asks as he gently places a painting in a box.

"You guys need to let us have our slow burn love story in peace. We took forever but at that time we fell in love, we got to know each other and realize how much we do really care about each other. The hold up was us making sure we were compatible, God forbid it took us some time," Alex rants.

"John, translate?" Herc requests.

I laugh. "Y'all need to realize we were pussies."

"There we go, that's what I believe," Thomas laughs.

Finally, we get everything packed up. Maria and the Schuyler's have packed up all of Maria's clothes and toiletries, and we've put all the boxes and bags into the back of my truck, so all that's left to do wait for James to show up. I'm on the sectional, cuddled up next to Alex while Maria and Eliza gush about living together. It's actually really cute. You can tell they really like each other, from the way Eliza keeps brushing fly aways out of Maria's face, to the way Maria fiddles with Eliza's fingers. The two of them can barely keep their hands off each other.

"Okay, be for real with us," Thomas says.

"What?" Eliza asks, brushing her hands along Maria's thighs.

"You two. I don't believe you've never kissed, or done anything past this platonic flirting shit," Thomas replies, laughing as he gestured vaguely to them.

Maria shakes her head. "We have never kissed. I didn't feel right cheating, even if I was going to break up with him, and he's cheated on me. I know it probably has been agonizing for Liza, but I'm really glad she stuck around. Without her, I don't think I could be doing this. I'm just, I'm so happy I have her."

Eliza blushes, leaning into Maria a bit. "Awh, you're too fuckin' sweet."

"What should we do after this?" Alex asks.

"Well," Angelica starts, "I was thinking all of us, plus the people who didn't come, we could all meet up at The Schuyler-Lewis joint apartment and eat cheesecake and pizza and hang out, celebrating Maria's new freedom from that dick."

"John? We down?" Alex asks me, gently kissing my jaw.

"I think we are," I laugh, hugging the small boy close to my body. Alex sighs happily and rests his head on my shoulder. It's nice to have him like this. No matter what position we're in, we always seem to fit perfectly with each other, like puzzle pieces. He's so soft and warm, it's nice to be with him.

"Hey, I just got a text from James. He's gonna be home in like, five minutes. Alex, John, stop being so gay and look scary," Maria says.

"For the record, I can be gay and scary," Alex says, sitting up and smiling.

"Sure you can, baby," I joke, kissing his neck. "Maria, what're you gonna say?"

"I'm just, I'm gonna tell him we need to break up. I need you guys to hold me to it. I just, I can't stay in this relationship with him anymore. He's a jerk, and I'm in love with someone else," Maria says, sounding more like she's convincing herself than us.

"You got this!" Hercules cheers.

"Yeah! Kick ass!" Peggy encourages.

We all begin shouting support to Maria, cheering and smiling as she blushes and buries her face in Eliza's neck. All of our cheerings is cut short though when we hear the doorknob jiggle. Alex and I separate, as does Maria and Eliza. The door opens and a tall man walks through it. He's very white, with dark hair and blue eyes. He looks kinda buff, but nothing like me or Herc. He stops when he sees all of us. I gotta be honest, I would freeze if I walked into a room full of white people, but I have a better reason.

"Babe, who are they?" Mister James Reynolds asks, looking uncertain.

"James, uh, I." Maria stands up, glances at Eliza really quick then looks back to the man standing in the door. "I think we should break up."

There's a silence in the room, but I can tell James is just getting angry, so I stand up, moving so I'm next to Maria. Herc, Thomas, and Angelica seem to get the clue because they join me. The four of us make a pretty scary group of bodyguards. It's funny. Herc can go from the persona of a butterscotch candy to a hellfire demon in almost seconds.

"What did you just say?" James asks, his voice shaking from anger.

"I think we should break up," Maria repeats, this time sounding braver.

"You can't do this! You have nowhere to go!" James spits his voice almost like a growl.

"Correction, she does have a place to go," Angelica snaps. "And her new bedroom is the size of this entire apartment."

"Oh, so you're going to throw away four years of your life with me?" James snaps.

Maria nods. "Yes, yes I am."

There's a moment of silence. Then James lunges at Maria. I'm the first to react, hooking my arm around James' neck and putting him in a chokehold. I know this won't kill him, it'll just knock him out, so I keep him there until he stops struggling and goes limp. I drop his body on the floor and look up at Maria, who's shaking a bit.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." I pull her into a hug. "Let's go. Come on, let's take your stuff to your new home. He's gonna wake up in a few minutes so we should probably clear out."

Maria nods and we all leave her apartment, heading out and back to my truck. We all pile back into my truck. Maria is slowly calming down, so Alex turns on some music and we all begin singing. We sing to a few different songs, and then, a personal favorite of mine and Alex's comes on. We listened to this song a lot in high school when we would drive around late at night. We'd park the car by a little lake and turn up the music and dance and yell the lyrics. We would always end up stripping to our underwear and swimming in the lake. I Wanna Get Better by The Bleachers has a lot of history with us, so when it comes on, we start singing instantly.

"I wanna get better!" Alex sings, throwing his hands up and dancing a bit. The group joins in, laughing and dancing. Maria looks over during the second verse and kisses Eliza. We all scream and cheer as the music plays. It's loud, and everyone is smiling. Alex is leaning against me, smiling. We're all so happy.

"I'll order the pizza now, come on, let's get Maria's stuff in here," Angelica says. Eliza cheers something about finally have a TV in her room, then grabs a few boxes. We end up being able to make only one trip each, which is good. When we get there, James, Laf, and Sally are there already. They help Maria unpack and Peggy seems very happy that there's finally gonna be some good art on the walls. Maria mentions that she'll unpack her clothes later, so it's just us putting up art until the pizza get there.

"This is the best day of my life," Maria smiles, sitting on the couch with pizza in her hand. Eliza smiles and sits down next to her, pulling her close as we all sit down too. The girls share another kiss and a few wolf whistles come from Alex, Thomas, and Herc. I roll my eyes, pulling my boy closer.

"You, are a pervert," I state, smiling as I kiss Alex's head.

"I'm your pervert though," Alex points out, smiling at me.

I sigh, a small chuckle escaping my chest. "All mine."

"Alright, alright, that's what I'm talking about," Angelica smiles, coming into the room with Peggy and a bunch of cups and different drinks. Angelica, without even asking, hands me a bottle of ginger ale and hands Alex some rose lemonade. I'm glad she didn't even tempt me, I probably would've said yes, and then I would just get really drunk, and well, that's not exactly my favorite thing to do nowadays.

Angelica sits on the couch, her arm around Sally. The two of them are next to Eliza and Maria. Lafayette and Herc are next to them, taking up more space than needed. Thomas and James are sitting on the floor and leaning against the easy chair that Peggy sits criss cross in, while Alex and I sit on the floor and lean against the couch. We all are capable of seeing and talking to each other, and all of us are curled up comfortably.

"So, now that you guys are living together, do you think you'll get sick of each other?" Thomas asks.

"Alex, John, how long have you guys been living together?" Eliza asks us.

I shrug. "I dunno, about five years? The first year we met we sort of just had sleepovers, but Alex didn't really start living with me until we were in eighth grade."

"Okay, have you ever gotten sick of each other?" Maria continues.

Alex shakes his head. "God no. I mean, we hang out with other people and our dorm is sometimes pretty quiet because we're both studying or doing homework or something, but like, it's not like we get sick of each other. We just, we work together, you know? We've never been sick of each other."

"If I showered less he would be giving a different answer," I joke.

Alex nods. "Damn right I would. If John started showering less I would start showering less to give a passive aggressive hint. You know how I do."

"Alex, you are the most passive aggressive person I know," Angelica jokes.

"Whatever. Maria, Liz, are you guys excited you're living together now?" My sweet Caribbean asks, adjusting the attention to the new roommates.

"Yes! Oh my god, I'm so happy," Eliza says. "We're gonna stay up so late talking and doing our nails and watching movies and cuddling and, uh, playing chess."

"Oh, yeah, chess. Lot's of chess. I love chess," Maria says.

"Ha! Chess!" Herc laughs.

"What, what is chess?" Laf asks.

"What do you mean?" Thomas gives Lafayette a weird look.

"I, um, I don't know what that word means. I just, I've never heard it before. Is it, is it like, a video game?" Laf pulls out his phone. "I, should I look it up?"

"Baby, chess is an old board game," Herc tries explaining.

"Echecs," Alex cuts in, his French accent instantly wooing me.

"Oh! Echecs! I love that game! The horses are so cute! I used to play it with the other dancers between shifts," Laf smiles, leaning against Herc. "Maybe we should all play Echecs together sometimes."

"They weren't actually talking about chess," James says, laughing.

"What were they talking about?" Laf asks quietly, blushing from embarrassment.

"They're talking about doing the nasty, right in front of my good christian salad," Peggy complains, her mouth full of pizza.

"Peggy! Jesus Christ!" Eliza says, blushing.

"You brought it up!" Peggy shoots back, laughing.

"Okay, then how about you? What are you currently doing in that bedroom of yours?" Eliza asks, obviously trying to bring a blush from her sister.

Peggy only smiles though, not losing her composure. "One night stands only, baby. I got about four fuck buddies. Lick the clit but don't commit."

"Man, if I was single and not head over heels for John, I would take that advice to mind," Alex jokes, laughing.

"What about you? Huh, Jelly bean? What have you been up to?" Eliza asks, smirking at her sister Angelica who's been sitting awfully close to Sally this entire conversation.

Angelica rolls her eyes and stands up. "This is Sally. She's my lover. We don't have a label other than lovers, so don't ask."

"What even is our sexualities?" Thomas wonders outloud.

"Pansexual!" Peggy raises her hand.

"Lesbians," Maria and Eliza say at the same time.

"I'm pretty gay, and so is Laf," Herc informs us.

"I'm bisexual, James is demi." Thomas kisses James head and smiles.

"I'm pansexual, Sally here is as well," Angelica tells us.

I gently pull Alex a bit closer. "I am asexual, and my dearest, Alex is bisexual."

"Fuck the straights! We're all black and gay!" Eliza, the lightest one of all of us all, cheers. Now that I think about it, she doesn't really look like her sisters at all. I guess I never realized until she was cheering about how we're all black.

"Eliza, you're Asian, John is Puerto Rican, Alex is Caribbean, and Peggy is Mexican," Angelica points out.

"Are you guys, like, adopted?" James asks.

Eliza nods. "Yes, actually. We were all adopted when we were babies so we don't remember anything from each other."

"Y'all are fuckin lucky. Kids like us get chewed up and spit out by the system," Alex mumbles. "It literally does not care about the actual kid. You're just paperwork to them."

"Did you ever think they were going to take you out of South Carolina and away from John?" Angelica asks.

Alex nods. "Oh, yeah, definitely. I almost got deported in middle school, and then when my legal guardian at the time commited suicide, I was seventeen for another few months so I had to fight pretty hard to stay where I was. Laf, did the system ever try to get at you?"

Laf shrugs. "There were a couple close calls at school. My high school principal once saw me at the strip club one night and called me in to talk about it and then I cut a deal with him and we basically agreed he wouldn't tell anyone I was working at a strip club as a minor, and I wouldn't tell his wife he was at a strip club, putting euros down boys thongs."

"Laf's life is a Tumblr post," Angelica points out, sipping her drink.

We all laugh, taking more sips from our drinks. We continue talking, discussing our plans for spring break, which was nearing on us. Angelica, Herc, Laf, and Peggy get a little tipsy, while the rest of us stay mostly sober. I do gotta admit though, watching Laf dance to Toxic by Britney Spears is pretty funny. Unfortunately though, we do end up staying pretty late, so, we all decide to just crash here. We all lay on the floor, covered in a vast amount of blankets. Alex is next to me, lying with his head on my chest, and I'm almost asleep when I hear a whisper coming from Jefferson. It's hushed, so he doesn't wake anyone.

"Alex, I got a pack of cigarettes in my jacket pocket, you wanna head out and smoke for a bit with me?" He asks.

"Yeah, sure," Alex mumbles, sitting up. I pretend to me asleep but subtly watch Alex and Jefferson walk onto the balcony. Alex doesn't have his coat, but a blanket instead. They close the door so I can't hear what they're saying, but I do see their mouths moving. Jefferson is talking as Alex lights up his cigarette. A wave of calm seems to wash over him as he does. He takes a long drag and then blows it out through his nose and mouth, laughing at something Jefferson is saying.

"I wish they wouldn't do that either," I hear James say. I look over to see the smaller man sitting up and staring sadly at them. "It's terrible for them."

"How long have you known that Jefferson smokes?" I ask.

A shrug comes from the smaller boy. "A few years? I dunno, he's been doing it since he was fourteen. I caught him at a party. I wasn't gonna go but then I decided why not, and when I got there, Thomas was on his tenth cigarette, chain smoking with the Russian exchange students. I was pissed, and he told me he'd quit. He didn't, of course. At first, he hid it pretty well, and then he got bad at it. Finally, when he made some bullshit excuse to go on a walk, I just told him he could smoke outside and sit with me. So, I just kinda dealt with it. I don't like it, I don't like it at all, but, I can't really do anything but ask. He told me he'd quit if we ever had kids. What he doesn't know is that I really want kids."

I let out of a chuckle. "Me too. I know Alex doesn't smoke as much and T Jeff, but still. I just wish he wouldn't. Also, I don't like the smell."

"So, what is it you need to tell him?" James asks me, his voice gentle.

"What do you mean?" I reply, pulling the blanket around me a bit more as I watch Alex light up his second cigarette.

"Something's on your mind. You, you need to tell him something," James mumbles.

"Oh, he still doesn't really know that I'm spending my spring break in South Carolina. I'm going alone, just to stay focused. I'm involved in a protest police brutality against people of color. I'm on the frontline," I explain. "Alright, I want my boyfriend to come back and lie with me. But, I gotta tell him about my trip first. Jefferson is headed back in."

"Okay, thanks, dude. I miss my mans. He's my heater," James laughs.

I sit myself up, then look back over at James, who looks a little thinner than he did a few weeks ago. "Hey, have you been eating?"

A shrug comes from him. "I fell off the wagon a bit. I just, I gotta work on it. I'm back down to one hundred. I don't think Thomas has noticed yet, but I don't know."

"Hey, you could set reminders to eat, and if the problem dives deeper than that, there's always the option to seek out treatment. Go to a doctor or something. Just, don't be afraid to ask for help, you can always come over if you need to," I tell him, standing up.

"Thanks, man," James mumbles.

I grab a blanket and pull it around my shoulders before stepping outside. "Hey, Thomas, James misses you."

Alex freezes, the half burnt cigarette in his mouth.

"Oof, 'ight my brother, text me if you survive," Thomas laughs, stomping out his cigarette.

I look to the still frozen Alex, his cigarette burning. "Finish it. There's no point in wasting."

"You, I, uh," Alex stutters, smoke coming out of his mouth.

"Yeah, yeah, save it. Smoke. I gotta tell you something," I say, leaning against the railing.

Alex unfreezes and takes another hit from his cigarette. I can see another one behind his ear, delicately placed there. Jefferson has the lighter though, so Alex is probably accepting the fact that this is the last cigarette he's going to smoke for tonight. I've tried smoking once. It's disgusting. It hurt my throat, my lungs, and tasted awful. I hated the smell, the feel, the taste. I have absolutely no desire to smoke another. I like pot more because the taste is smooth and sweet almost. It's relaxing, while cigarettes just stress me out.

"What do you wanna tell me?" Alex asks, smoke coming out of his mouth. He tries to aim it away from me, but I still have to wave my hand in front of my face so the smell doesn't linger. He looks at me apologetically, then blows his next hit of smoke in the opposite direction I'm in. He blows it out in little puffs, making a cool effect.

"Uh," I start, rubbing the back of my neck. "So break is coming up."

"Yeah?" He urges me to continue, flicking some ash off of his cigarette.

"Well, I'm actually headed back to South Carolina. Um, alone," I say.

Alex cocks his head a bit. "Your parents don't want me back?"

My head shakes rapidly as I place my hand on his arm. "No, no I'm not even going back to our hometown. I'm going to Columbia. I'm helping organize a protest against racial shootings. I'm on the front lines, basically."

"Oh, yeah I know you mentioned something about this earlier in the year. How long are you gonna be gone?" Alex asks, taking his last his from the cigarette and then stomping it out with his foot. Since it's out, he moves closer and leans against me.

"Just a week, and we can FaceTime every night, I promise," I explain.

Alex smiles and presses a gentle kiss to my jaw. "Sounds pleasant."

I laugh, hugging him close to me. "Will I ever be able to get you to quit?"

He shrugs, trailing his hands up and down my sides. "I don't do it that often anyway. If we ever have kids, I'll probably quit."

"Do you want kids?" I ask, looking up at the night sky.

A shrug comes from my lover. "Probably. I'd want to adopt though."

I smile, kissing Alex's head. We don't need to say much more after that, only stand on the balcony and look over the night sky, treasuring every moment we have together. We're okay. We're gonna be okay.


	32. If they tell the story of tonight, they better leave out the gay parts that happened in between

Alex

My last class of the day lets out, and all around the campus, yells of joy are being spewed from the mouths of exhausted college students. Lafayette has his arm around me and we're singing a French song called Milford by Edith Piaf. We're dancing together and laughing. When the song slows down we make sure to make it really dramatic as we put on almost pitiful faces. But, when it speeds up again we begin singing loudly and dancing and spinning. We're both laughing, endorphins running through our bodies.

"Wow, Laf, Alex, tell us how you really feel about the break," we hear Washington's voice say to us in French. I didn't know he could speak French. We turn to him, our arms still around each other, smiling like idiots.

"Washington! We are only joyous because we have a week without homework! We will miss you dearly," Lafayette replies in French.

A smile comes from Washington, so he replies to Laf's comments, again in French. "Well, you boys are welcome over anytime."

"Wonderful!" I cheer. Laf and I wave goodbye to Washington and continue our trek to our rooms, singing French songs. At one point we start doing a popular French song, me singing the chorus and Laf rapping the verses. We end up going into his room, where we see John and Herc eating pizza. They look to be only on their first slices, and in front of them is a box holding a nice hot pizza, so we both grab pieces and sit down, smiling.

"You two look awfully happy," Herc notices, smiling.

"A whole week without having to worry about anything," Laf answers, smiling. "No homework, no school, no books, no reading. Just the four of us getting high, eating pizza, and having orgy's."

"Three three of you, actually," John cuts in. "I'm headed down to South Carolina for a protest I'm helping to lead. I'm on the front line, so I'm going to have to ask you two to keep my Alex company."

"Awh, we're gonna miss you," Herc says, pushing John's shoulder a bit.

"How do you think I feel? A whole week without sex!" I complain.

"When do you leave?" Laf asks John.

"Tomorrow. I'm driving down, so the trip is gonna take a while. The protest next Friday and I'm not really gonna be able to do anything until the day after I get there, which will be Sunday. I'm just helping set up for the majority of the week, planning and stuff." John ruffles up his hair a bit. "We're protesting police violence against people of color. There's been a lot of that, and recently a high school student was shot and killed. I talked to their mother over the phone a few nights ago, offering my condolences. It was heartbreaking."

"Wow, that's really brave of you, John," Herc compliments, his face solemn.

John nods. "I'm excited. What are y'all's plans? Anything exciting?"

A shrug comes from Lafayette. "Mostly hanging out here. A little apartment shopping, a few date nights. That's it though. Alex, you're always welcomed over."

"M'kay," I mumble, leaning against John.

We talk for a little longer, but soon enough, it gets later, so John and I decide to head back. We change out of our clothes, into some sweatpants and a tee shirt, then we lie down in John's bed together. We're holding each other very close. I bury my face in John's neck and breath in his scent. He keeps me warm, holding me close to his body. I can't help but smile as his hands trail down my back and hold my butt, gently pulling me closer to him. As much as I'm trying to keep this pleasant cuddle fest innocent, John is massaging my ass, so it's not my fault that I'm getting hard, and it's definitely not my fault that John begins subtly grinding on me. I try not to make it obvious about how he's affecting me, but when a moan escapes my lips, there was no way I could hide it.

John chuckles. "I heard that."

"Oh?" I plant a gentle kiss on his neck. "What are you going to do about it?"

John flips us so he's on top, then grinds onto me while kissing my neck. I'm almost embarrassed by the moan that escapes my throat. John doesn't seem to care, though, he keeps kissing me, reaching down and rubbing my hardon through my sweatpants. I gasp when he reaches his hand under the fabric and grabs my growing erection. I whine as he begins moving his hand up and down. I desperately grip at his shirt, tugging it upward. He sits up and peels it off, then takes my shirt off as well. I slide down my sweatpants and so does John. He grabs my dick again and begins rubbing it, bringing high pitched moans from the back of my throat.

"Ah! Fuck!" I moan, scratching John's back. "Papi, I, I need you."

"Hands and knees," John demands, his voice firm. He gets up and goes to our desk, where we keep condoms. He's about to pull one out, but I stop him.

"Papi, I want it raw. Please," I beg, looking at him from the bed.

He bites his lip, then comes back over to the bed. He stands in front of it, looking at me on my knees. Then, he grabs my hair and pulls my face towards his dick. "Go on, make it wet."

I take his dick in my mouth, feeling it grow a bit more as he gets harder. I gag a bit as he begins fucking my face. I almost whine when he pulls out of my mouth. Spit drips down my chin and his dick. He gets on the bed, behind me, then smacks my ass. I whine when he does it again. Recently, John and I have really been testing out kinkier waters. From me calling him 'papi' to him leaving bruises on my ass and thighs. It's nice.

"Fuck, baby girl, I love your perky little ass," John groans as he rubs his dick against my entrance. I moan and push back a bit, but then whine when John smacks my ass again.

"Papi, Papi please," I whine.

"What's that, baby girl? What do you want?" John teases, continuing to rub his dick against me.

"Papi!" I beg. "Please, please fuck me! Oh, fuck, please! I'm all yours! I wan-"

I'm cut off by him pushing into me. I moan, dropping down to my elbows. He doesn't let me adjust but instead continues to thrust. My body jolts as he hits a very nice spot in me. I begin pushing myself back again, going deeper on his dick. I guess he gets the message because he begins to thrust as deep as he can.

"I, I can feel you in my stomach!" I squeak, my voice cracking.

"You're so fucking tight!" John groans, squeezing my ass. I am practically screaming, my voice is hurting. I can't even stay propped up on my elbows anymore, so I end up burying my face in the mattress, gripping the sheets. John hits the good spot inside of me and I end up pulling the sheet off the corner of the mattress. I can feel him so deep in me, it's almost unreal. I can feel precum leaking from my dick.

"Touch me, please Papi, touch me," I beg.

John stops thrusting and laughs. "Oh, you want me to touch you?"

"Mm, please Papi, fuck, please," I cry out. "I want you to touch me, please."

"I love seeing you like this," John teases. He leans forward and grabs my hair, pulling it. "You're so small, practically begging me to touch you. You love this, don't you? You love the feeling of me inside of you, pounding into you."

"Oh, yes, I do!" I tell him, moving my hips to try and get some movement.

John tugs my hair a bit more, then let's go, causing me to fall onto the bed again. He begins thrusting against, then reaches around and grabs my dick. I moan as I move my ass back. I can feel myself getting closer to coming. I try to hold on through, hoping I can finish closer to John. He always takes a bit longer than me, I don't mind though.

"Fuck, fuck, baby girl, I'm close," John mumbles, thrusting faster.

I let out a moan in response, clenching my teeth. My hands have closed around the sheets, pulling them totally off of the bed. This is some of the best sex we've ever had. I mean, we always have good sex, but like, this is definitely one of the top three. Up there with our first time and the time John tied me up.

"Fuck!" I moan. I finally come, making a mess of the sheets. John keeps thrusting, even after I ride out my high. I am now overly sensitive, and John is still hitting my prostate. Thankfully though, he comes, filling my ass with come. He slows down, then stops thrusting, fully inside me, and leans against my back, breathing heavily.

"You're so perfect," he mumbles.

"John, baby, you gotta pull out. Your right up against a good spot," I whisper breathlessly.

"Shit, sorry," he mumbles, pulling out. "You know, you have a lot of come in your ass, I should probably get it out, right?"

"Oh, fuck," I mumble. "Please."

He leans down and begins to eat out my ass, sucking the come out and making me feel so unimaginably good. I moan gripping the sheets as he continues. Finally, he finishes, then flips me onto my back and kisses me. He lets his come drip into my mouth as he kisses me. I hold him close to me, enjoying the salty sweet flavor. I run my hands up and down his back, treasuring the soft feeling of his skin.

"We, we should probably change the sheet," I mumble, gently placing my hand on John's cheek and holding him a bit closer.

He laughs and plants a kiss on my shoulder. "Yeah, we probably should."

We change the sheet, throwing his in the hamper and just using the one off of my bed since no one sleeps in that thing anyway. I lie back down but John begins to pack for his trip. I watch him, a smiling mess, calling out little reminders. He almost forgets to pack socks. Thankfully though, he has me supervising him.

"How many pairs do you think I'll need?" John asks me, sitting on the floor surrounded by loose socks, not paired up.

"Well, you'll have a pair for Saturday already, when do you get home?" I ask, laughing a bit as he groans.

"Next Sunday," John answers, looking around a bit.

"Okay, so I'm gonna say, eight pairs. One more just in case," I inform him, adjusting myself on his bed and wincing as pain shoots through my ass.

"You okay?" John asks, noticing my wince.

I nod. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just a bit sore."

A small chuckle escapes my boyfriend's lips as he begins finding socks that sort of match, then pairing them up and throwing them in his suitcase. "How many pairs of underwear do I need?"

"Eight," I reply smoothly, picking up a magazine from his nightstand and flipping through it. It's about some sort of human rights issue. As much as John denies it, he would make an amazing lawyer. Though, he does cry when he argues sometimes, but still.

"What if I shit myself three times a day every day for the whole trip though?" John jokes, laughing a bit.

I roll my eyes and look at him, smiling. "I think you'll be okay. Eight pairs will do just fine. Four pairs of pants maybe, one pair of sweatpants, nine shirts, and an extra hat, just in case it's cold down there. Are you excited to go?"

John nods, smiling a bit. "Yeah, I'm gonna be standing in the front, and we had the idea to wrap chains around our wrists to represent the people of color who have been unfairly sentenced prison time. Some news stations are going to be there. It's heartbreaking that will still have to protest this shit, but I'm glad that we have people who are willing to go out and risk getting injured for this cause. I just think it's really important, you know?"

I nod. "Yeah, I think you're doing something that's really good, my love."

John finishes packing, then comes and lays down with me again. It's gotten late, and since John needs to wake up early, he cuddles up into the pillow and closes his eyes. I grab a book called On Tyranny, then began reading out loud. John cuddled into my side, his hand gently running up and down my chest. Soon enough though, he falls asleep, so I quietly read until I decide it's my turn to fall asleep too. So, I turn out the light and snuggle up with John, holding his hand and listening to his heartbeat. I drift off to the ba-bum coming from his chest, smiling to myself, happy to be in his arms.

We both wake up to his alarm. He groans loudly and silences it, then gets up to get dressed. I get up too, pouring some coffee into a thermos for him. I slip on some basketball shorts and a hoodie so I can walk him to his car. He seems drowsy as he goes through his morning routine, but perks up when he drinks some coffee. His hair is a mess, but it's gorgeous too. Sometimes I want to just touch it forever.

"I'm gonna miss you," I groan, wrapping my arms around him.

"I'll miss you too, but it's only a week. I'll be back before you know I'm gone," John looks out the window. "It's almost dawn, I should head out."

"I'll walk you to your car, but then I'm going back to sleep," I mumble as we grab his bags and begin to walk to the truck. We make it there in silence and put John's things in the back. Then, before he gets in, he embraces me. I feel tears well up in my eyes and I honestly don't know why. I guess, maybe between the fight we had barely a month earlier and the fact that we've both just been kinda busy lately, I've started to miss him. Now, now he's going away on this trip, and I won't be able to see him for a week.

"Hey," John whispers, taking my face in his hands and wiping a few tears away. "You're the best of men, and best of lovers."

I sigh and kiss him, then watch as he gets in his car and drives away. Deciding that I am actually still tired, I find my way back to the dorms and collapse back on the bed, cuddling up with one of John's hoodies and closing my eyes again. Usually, once I'm up, I'm up, but today I just feel kinda tired, so, I close my eyes and fall back asleep.

The day is spent alone, reading and writing. I don't really feel like going out, but I do make plans with Laf and James for tomorrow. The Imported Goods squad is gonna go to the air and space museum and cause mischief together. We have a group chat and everything, and sometimes we just send each other memes making fun of white people and trump. It's nice to have a group of immigrants I can confide in. I love John, but sometimes talking to people who understand what you've been through is just nice.

I end up ordering mass amounts of Chinese takeout and eating it throughout the day. I listen to music and dancing and take a really long fancy bath. Then I do a little redecorating, moving some posters, adjusting them, then I clean, making John's bed and my bed, running down to the laundry room and doing laundry, opening a window and turning on a fan so the room airs out. It's nice, because around seven, when I'm eating cold low mein and colder sweet and sour chicken, I'm sitting in a nice clean room, on a nicely made bed, surrounded by books and half full white styrofoam boxes.

Suddenly, I hear a beeping noise from my computer. I look over and realize that John is Facetiming me. He said he'd get to South Carolina about five, and then meet up with the people he was staying with. Just a few other organizers of the protest. I'm happy to see he's Facetiming me, that means he's most likely okay. So, I check my hair really quick, making sure I look okay, then I click the answer button. I see John, laying on a bed, smiling at me.

"Hiya, gorgeous," he smiles, biting his lip.

"Hey, Johnny boy! How was your trip?" I ask, sitting in front of the camera screen.

"It was good, not much happened. I'm in my hotel room now. The guy I'm sharing with, Christopher Greene, he went to get us some Thai food. He's really cool, an immigrant from Iraq, lives in Tennessee. He's here because his brother got shot and killed by police while sitting in his car unarmed. It's heartbreaking, but the work he's been doing is amazing." John blushes a bit. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

I shake my head. "No, no continue. What are your plans for tomorrow?"

John smiles. "Well, we're meeting up with the other leaders and discussing a schedule for when the protest is, then me and another leader, James Varnum, we're going to be on the radio for an interview about what we're doing. It's gonna be so cool. What did you do today?"

I shrug a bit. "Not a lot, just cleaned, did laundry, wrote and read. The usual. Laf, James, and I made plans to go to the air and space museum tomorrow, so that's going to be fun."

John nods. "Oh, that's good. Please try to go outside at least once a day while I'm gone. You need the fresh air. Have you eaten enough today?"

I laugh. "I've probably consumed more Chinese food than you do when you come back from the gym. Don't worry, I'm hydrated too. Have you gotten enough food?"

John nods. "Yes, definitely. I had all the road trip snacks, and then I'm about to eat so much Thai food, mm. I can't wait."

I laugh. "You're such a dork. I love you."

"I love you too, baby girl. Are you gonna do anything this week?" John brushes some of his hair behind his ear.

I shrug. "Maybe, I don't know. Probably just hang with friends, relax. Washington invited Laf and me over for dinner on Friday, so there's that I can go to. Are you gonna be doing mainly this protest thing while you're down there? Or, like, do you have any free time?"

John shakes his head quickly. "No. Racism in this nation has gone from latent to blatant." He begins to gesture with his hands. "I gotta invest in this protest, can't lose my focus until the city takes notice. Chances are, I won't have many moments to sleep because this city has a million promises for me to keep."

"You are so cute," I smile.

A blush rises in his cheeks. "I was just, you know, thinking off the top of my head."

"Hey, John, I'm back!" Calls a voice from off-screen.

"Hey Topher," John calls. A guy comes on screen, tall and skinny, with light brown skin and messy black hair. He has a few bags in his hands. When he sees me, he sort of cocks his head and comes closer.

"Who's that?" He asks, handing John a bag.

John opens the bag and pulls out some food. "This is my main hoe, Alexander."

"Main hoe? Really?" I shoot, raising my eyebrow.

"Fine he's my husband," John laughs.

"Babe, you went from two to ten really quick," I inform him. "I'm Alex, John's boyfriend. I'm supporting him from New York."

"I'm Christopher Greene, but you can call me Topher," Topher says. He then goes over to his bed and lies down, pulling out his phone. John and I talk a little more until John informs me that he is tired, so, we tell each other we love each other, then hang up. I sigh, smiling a bit as thoughts of John run through my head. God, I'm in love with this boy. He's got me helpless.


	33. Alex was not BUILT for this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah whoops

Alex

Lafayette kissed my cheek as I walked into his dorm. It's Friday, so John is out doing his protest thing. Meanwhile, I am in Laf's dorm, letting him do my makeup for dinner at Washington's tonight. Only he and I are going, since we are the students closest to Washington. I originally planned to just shower, shave a bit, and then put on a nice sweater, but Laf made me come over so he could decorate me. He said that he was also going to pick out my outfit, so I came over in my sweatpants and a hoodie, freshly showered and shaved. Laf was already dressed, wearing some blue overalls, rolled up at the ankles, as well as a white tee shirt and a choker. His cheeks had his trademark. Gold stars painted on them, and his eyes were accented with touches of makeup. I, of course, looked like shit.

"Mon ami, come now, let's make you even more beautiful," Lafayette laughs, pulling me into his room. He sits me down and pulls out some makeup, then begins to work on my face. He does a bit of highlight, some nude makeup, a touch of mascara. It's not a lot, really, just enough to accent my features.

"What will I be wearing?" I ask over the music Laf is playing. It's French pop, something he claims American radios don't have enough of. 'If they play Despacito they should also play the French hits.'

"Well, I was thinking, something vintage. So, how about some high waisted ripped up jeans, and, oh, I don't know, maybe my Columbia tee shirt? And then just some vans. Yeah?" Laf suggests, looking through his closet.

I nod. "Sounds good."

Laf hands me the clothes he picked out. "How's John doing?"

I smile, thinking about the extended conversation we had last night, that turned into us just singing Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better until he fell asleep. "He's good. Tired, but he's been working really hard. It's amazing to see him like this, to see him working so hard and being so passionate about this. I think he really likes what he's doing. He would be a good lawyer."

"Why doesn't he become one?" Lafayette asks, adjusting his hair in the mirror.

I shrug. "He says it's not what he wants to do. I respect that."

"Do you want to put a flannel on, or will you feel comfortable with just a t-shirt?" Lafayette asks me gently.

I look down at my arms. My wrist is scarred with thick, white lines. I can do this, though. I can be brave. "No, no I'll be good. I can handle this."

"Okay. Now, let me look at you," Laf mumbles, holding me at arm's length. "Hmm, you look good, but you need a necklace." Laf pulls a necklace with just a key off the nightstand. "Here, this will be good enough."

"Thanks. Where's Herc off to?" I mumble as Laf begins to brush my hair.

"Oh, he's just upstate for the day, visiting his sister and her new baby," Laf explains.

"Oh yeah, Herc is like, kind of the oldest one here. He's like, an actual adult," I laugh, thinking about how much older Herc is. Laf, John, and I are all nineteen, while Herc is twenty-two. Such a wild thought.

"Okay, I know you don't like your birthday, but are you still eighteen? Or have you turned nineteen yet?" Laf asks.

"Yeah, I'm nineteen," I say, looking back on my birthday this year. January eleventh. That day was spent with John, watching Netflix and distracting myself. I don't like my birthday because that's the day my dad left us. He literally left on my fucking birthday. He told me, this excited little ten year old, that he was going to go get my present. My mom was in the kitchen, and my brother had already split, and then my dad walked out of the house. I waited by the door until my mom came over and questioned what I was doing. I told her I was waiting for dad. She called him, he didn't answer. And then, he just never came back.

"Why don't you like your birthday?" Laf asks, beginning to brush my hair back to make a bun, leaving some hair out, framing my face.

"Some bad stuff happened on my birthday. I don't like thinking about it," I state.

Laf nods. "I get that. Adrienne, the beautiful girl who you fell in love with, she hates her birthday too. Never told me why, but I get it."

"What was it like, being a sex worker in Europe?" I ask, finally satisfying my curiosity.

Laf shrugs. "It wasn't awful. Since it was legal, it was always super safe. I got in a few sketchy situations. I once got beat pretty hard by a guy. I was only sixteen, and he was older, at least forty. I didn't feel comfortable doing anything physical, but I agreed to give him a lap dance and a private show in a different room. When I started giving him the lap dance, he started touching me, and when I told him to stop, he wouldn't. I did end up hitting him, and then he started to beat the shit out of me. Luckily, we always had a video camera in the room, and soon enough the guy was being carried out on a stretcher thanks to the owner and a guard. I was okay, just a little bruised up. That was a pretty isolated incident though, it was usually pretty safe." He finishes up my hair and we stand, grabbing our jackets and slipping on our shoes.

"Were you homeless as a kid?" I ask.

Laf nods. "Yeah. My mom kicked me out of the house at fifteen, and I just had nowhere to go. I lived with my aunt, Adrienne, in the streets. Sometimes I would sleep in school. When I met Herc, I was living in a shelter, which is why we always went back to his apartment. When he found out I was homeless, and this was when I was seventeen, he made sure I stayed with him. I think I came to America because even if, God forbid, things don't work out with Herc, life will be better here than it was in Europe. I just, I could never rise up in that place. I was going nowhere. It's why I love it here."

I hook my arm with Lafayette's, pulling him a bit closer to me. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of that. I'm glad you're here, though. Laf, you're one of my best friends."

"You're one of my best friends too, Alex," Laf smiles.

"Okay, new question," I continue as we walk. "You and Washington, how'd y'all get so close? Like, seriously."

"Well," Laf starts. "He was just very nice to me when classes first started. Like, you know, I got good grades, I was respectful, basically the star student. Also, I didn't fight as you and Jefferfuck did, so that was an instant bonus. One afternoon, Herc and I got into a bit of a disagreement, I forget what it was about, and I just, I needed some time alone, so I went back to Washington's room to just get help on some work. Well, in case you haven't noticed by now, I'm very emotional, and I never fight with Herc, so obviously I ended up crying. Well, Washington basically sat with me for a while, and we talked about what was going on, what the fight was about, and just shit going on in life. He, he helped me through that. And, well, we're just kinda friends. So yeah. He does really care about you, you know that right?"

I nod. "It just freaks me out, the idea of him becoming a bit of a father figure. Like, every father figure I've ever had in my life has abandoned me, left me, or just been shit. I, I feel like he'll do the same."

Laf shakes his head as we near Washington's house. "No, he won't. I understand where you're coming from though, it must take a lot to recover from that."

"We really should travel this summer. It'd be fun," I suggest, our feet climbing the steps to Washington's house.

Lafayette nods. "Yes, mon ami, Hamilton, we should."

I don't even need to knock on the door, because Washington opens it, smiling at us. He quickly invites us in and we take off our jackets, hanging them up and heading into the living room. Washington has set out some wine and wine glasses, as well as a cheese plate with crackers too. I sit down on the couch, smiling.

"So, how has spring break been for you two? Have you been enjoying your time off?" Washington asks, pouring himself some wine and sipping it.

Lafayette nods. "Yes, I have been really focusing on makeup, and Herc has so graciously been my test model. Damn, the man can pull off highlight."

"Oh yeah, I caught him walking across campus with a very colorful face. It looks very nice," Washington compliments. "Alex, how have you and John been doing?"

I smile. "We're doing really good actually. Um, he's down in South Carolina for the break, he's leading a protest about police brutality and racism. It's actually really cool. There's going to be reporters there and everything so tonight I'm gonna be scouring some news sites and watching video and reports. He did a radio interview on Sunday, so that was really cool as well."

"I'm glad he's protesting that. God knows enough of our people have suffered at the hands of the force that was supposed to be protecting us," Washington states.

Suddenly, my phone starts ringing. I hold up one finger and step into the other room. It's Rachel, John's mother. I feel happy when I answer, knowing she's probably calling me to scold me for not telling her that John was in town.

"Hey, Rachel, what's happening?" I ask, picking up the phone.

"Alex," she says, her voice cracking. "Alex, you need to come down to South Carolina."

"What? Why? Is everything okay?" I ask, worry pooling in my stomach.

"I just sent you a ticket via email. Your flight leaves in three hours," Rachel tells me, her voice sounding shaky. She is usually very strong, so hearing her cry is totally different.

"Rachel, what's going on?" I ask, running a hand through my hair.

"John, he, he's been shot," she cries.

My entire body freezes. My heart stops. I can't breathe, I can speak, I can't stand. All I can think about is John. John, John, John. He's been shot? Who? Why? When? Is he alive? Oh my god, what if he's dying? What if as I stand here, not moving, not doing anything, John is dying. My John. My sweet sweet John. He, he can't die. He has so much left to do. I still have a million letters I haven't written to him, a million kisses I haven't given to him. A million words I haven't said to him. He can't die. He, he can't.

"Rachel, Rachel I have to go. I'll be there. I promise," I mumble, hanging up the phone.

"Alex, is everything alright?" Washington asks, stepping into the room.

I look over at him, tears in my eyes. "John, he's, he's been shot."

Washington's eyes widen. "What do you mean?"

My breathing begins to quicken as I shove my phone in my pocket and move to the front door. "He, he got shot. I have a ticket to South Carolina. I'm going. My flight leaves in four hours. I have to go get some things."

"Alexander, meet me in the parking lot, I'll give you a ride," Washington says.

I can tell it's not a suggestion, it's a demand. So, I just nod, then quickly walk out the door and back to my dorm. I'm practically running, so by the time I get back to my room, my lungs are burning thanks to my absence of exercise for the past nineteen years of my life. It's easy to ignore the pain in my chest though as I throw a book, a notebook my computer, and my chargers in my computer bag. I throw that over my shoulder and then grab a hat before exiting and running out to the student parking lot. A big black SUV honks at me and I climb in the passenger side. Washington instantly begins driving. The airport is about a fifteen-minute drive in light traffic, and I highly doubt there's gonna be light traffic on a Friday evening in New York City.

"Have you gotten any news?" Washington asks.

I shake my head. "No. No one has texted or called. I'll look on my laptop though, check to see what's going on." I pull my laptop out and turn on a hotspot on my phone, then begin to do research. The protest has made the front page of every news site there is. CNN has already written an article about it. Knowing Washington would be interested too, I begin to read out loud. "A peaceful protest has gone wrong as trigger-happy South Carolinian police turn what was supposed to be a protest for peace into a war zone. Christopher Green, Johnathan Laurens, and twelve other people have been hospitalized from gunshots." I choke up a bit as I continue. "The streets still haven't emptied, protesters standing and chanting, most of them drenched with fake blood. Sources say the protest didn't turn violent until a police officer hit Johnathan Laurens, one of the organizers of the protest, over the head. Christopher Greene and James Varnum, other organizers, instantly stepped in and that's when shots starting firing."

"Jesus Christ," Washington mutters, speeding up a bit and passing a few cars. "I'll accompany you through security, and I'll wait with you until your flight leaves. I don't want to leave you alone to your own thoughts."

I nod and close my laptop. About ten minutes later, we arrive at the airport. We're both quick to get through security, thankfully, and make to it my gate with an hour and a half to spare, as well as coffee and snacks. I sit down and instantly pull out my laptop again, seeing if there are any updates. My heart jumps as I see a video, so I pull out my earbuds and hand one to Washington, then play the video.

It starts out just showing John, Christopher, and I'm guessing James, all arguing with a police officer. The officer keeps repeating something about how they need papers, while Christopher and John show the officer the papers they need.

"This is exactly what we're protesting! Unfair treatment of people of color by law enforcement!" John exclaims throwing his arms up.

The police officer has hit John in an instant, and while my love cowers, holding his hand to his face, Christopher pushes the officer back. Then the shots are fired. The person holding the camera begins to get jostled as people move, scream. Then, suddenly, I see my John, clutching his stomach, climbing on top of a car with a megaphone. Blood drips down his shirt as he stands. He already looks paler, and almost in shock, but that doesn't seem to stop him from staying upright. Around him, chaos ensues, but people seem to look at him, wondering why the hell he's standing on a car, bleeding profusely, instead of in a hospital, or at least calling an ambulance. He has their attention though, none the less.

"You see this!" John takes his bloody hand away from his stomach, holding it in the air. His voice is loud and strong. "This is the blood of my brothers and sisters! Of Stephon Clark! Of Terence Crutcher! Of Philando Castile! Of Martin Luther King Junior! Of Sally Hemings and Malcom X! This is the blood spilled by innocent people! This is not just my blood! This is the violence that has been committed against my people for hundreds of years!"

"You idiot," I mumble. "Why, why aren't you asking for help?"

On screen, John sits down on the car, placing his hand back over his stomach. "This is why we protest." His voice sounds weaker. "Because this blood is not just my blood."

He lays back and the video stops. I'm stuck staring at the screen. I can see the profile of his face, how he's staring at the sky. Washington has his hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. I can feel tears sliding down my cheeks, but I don't wipe them away. I just stare. What do I do? What can I do? I don't feel like I'm doing enough, just sitting here and waiting. Waiting for my plane to board. So, I look to Washington.

"What can we do? What do we do? What can I do?" I ask, almost begging for something to occupy myself with. "We, we need to do something, sir. We can't just be bystanders."

Washington nods. "I, I can make a speech. I'm an old political figure, I have a name in the press. I could say something publicly."

"I'll write it," I mumble, opening a new tab and sharing the document with him.

"I'll get in contact with some people. Do you think you'll be able to do this, Hamilton? You don't have to. Whatever you can't finish, I will," Washington tells me, his voice genuine.

I nod. "I'll have time on the plane. It'll only be a few pages since it's a speech. I need something to do. It'll be ready by tonight. I promise."

Washington nods. "I have an old friend texting me right now. I haven't explained what happened yet, but he seems on board. I'll have to get in touch with a few more people though."

I hum in response and continue writing his speech. For the next hour and a half, we both sit there, hyperfocused on this. Washington makes calls, talking in a strong and solid voice, while I stay hunched over my laptop, writing. At one point, Washington goes and gets us more coffee. I keep rewriting and editing and revising and then writing more. I sip my coffee and barely blink, keeping my attention to this speech. I've written a few speeches before, but nothing like this. Nothing so powerful, nothing for a teacher. We continue working until it's time for my plane to board. I'm about to get up and leave, without even saying goodbye, but Washington stands and pulls me into a hug. I sigh and hug him back, feeling grateful that he's here.

"Alexander," Washington says, holding me at arm's length. "John is going to be okay. I promise. He's a fighter, I can tell. You have my number, you have Laf's number. Please don't be afraid to call us. We love you very much. Keep us updated."

"Thank you. Goodbye, professor, thank you for being here," I mumble, sighing.

Washington nods and I get in line as he walks away. I keep brainstorming ideas as I board, then pull out my laptop as soon as the plane takes off. I have two hours and twenty minutes, which I spend wisely, continuing Washington's speech, editing it until I cannot find a single thing wrong. Even then though, I continue rewriting and revising, trying to come up with more articulate wording, as well as sentences that would bring more emotion to the human spirit. That would bring attention to this event. I almost start crying at one point, but maybe that's just because the man I've loved for years has just been shot.

I think if I were in any other situation, I would've been tired by the time I got off the plane, but instead, I was wide awake. Just in case, I bought a twenty ounce Red Bull and shoved it in my bag before catching a taxi to the hospital Rachel texted me they were at. The ride is quick, much different from New York, where the traffic is slow and the air is cold. On the ride there, I think about what could be going on. He could be awake right now, talking to his mother, getting scolded for being so reckless. Laughing. Or maybe he's just clinging to life, lying in a hospital bed with a tube down his throat.

I'm quick to rush into the hospital when we arrive, stopping briefly to pay the cabbie. I have to get in an elevator to get to the correct floor. Of course, multiple people get on and off between those floors, increasing my heart rate. I almost closeline an old lady to get off, but I'm desperate to find out what's going on. I burst into the waiting room, instantly spotting John's mom. A few seats away sits John's dad, but I don't pay attention to him.

"Alexander!" Rachel cries.

"Is he breathing? Is he going to survive this? Who did this? Do we know?" I ask, panicked.

Rachel takes me in her arms and hugs me, and we both begin crying. We fall to our knees, our hearts hurting. Both of us watched John grow up, become the person he is. Now, we are both in the hospital, praying that his life will continue. I am shaking, terrified. I don't know how to handle this. Is he going to be okay? Is he going to survive this? My heart is breaking because the man I want to spend the rest of my life with could be dying.

"Have you eaten today?" I ask quietly when we both calm down.

Rachel shakes her head.

"I'm going to go get us some food, Rachel. I'll be right back," I tell her. I hug her again, and then make my way to the cafeteria. I get us both coffee, as well as some pizza and fries. I grab some water and then pay, before walking back up to the waiting room and sitting with Rachel. John's dad hasn't said or acknowledged us, but I don't really care. So, I just sit there, next to Rachel, trying to force myself to eat, though it doesn't seem worth it. This is absolutely my worst fear.

Deciding I can't take this anymore, I pull out my laptop and begin to write. I write emails to every news station I can think about. I write about what happened, how it's affecting me. I end up getting an interview offer, which I accept. If John cannot voice what is right to the world right now, then I will. I know if it was me in there, he would be doing everything under the sun to get the word about this out, so I'll do the same for him. I want everything he's been doing to be worth it. I want this day to be remembered.

The Columbia local news reporter and a cameraman come into the waiting room. I sit down with them away from Rachel. The reporter explains that she will be asking a few questions, then asks me what my relationship with the victim is. When I tell her he's my boyfriend, she tells me that she can't even imagine what I'm going through and that she wouldn't be as strong is her wife was in there.

"Hello, I'm Michelle Conaway. Havoc breaks loose in downtown Columbia as protesters remain, chanting the names of the victims who have been hospitalized. One of the injured protesters made an incredible speech while bleeding from a gunshot wound. That protester os John Laurens. With me now is the boyfriend of John Laurens, Alexander Hamilton. Alex, can you tell me how you are feeling about all of this?" The reporter asks, moving the microphone towards my face.

I take a deep breath, thinking about my love. "I feel hurt. I've known John since we were kids and growing up, we were no strangers to violence from police. John has always been passionate about civil rights for our brothers and sisters. It makes me sad to know that even now in these modern times, people are still getting discriminated against for their skin color."

"We understand that John flew down from New York to do this, is that correct?" Michelle asks me, her voice serious.

I nod. "Yes. He was very excited to go, very ready to help. He has always wanted to help. I do believe my boyfriend will live through this. I hope to God that things change in America, and I pray that the officer who shot my love will be prosecuted. As a law student, I am aware that his actions were unjust. As an immigrant, I am hurt that even in the land of the free, I am still discriminated against, as well as my fellow colored brothers and sisters."

Michele looks back at the camera. "I'm Michelle Conway, reporting live."

"Thank you, for letting me do this," I say when the camera turns off.

Michele nods, standing up. "Of course. I reported on this protest, I'm trying to get this as out there as possible."

I nod and bid her goodbye, then go back and join Rachel. She's sitting there, dried tears on her cheeks. She looks a little shaky, but like she's calmed down. She smiles at me when I sit next to her. I gently take her hand and hold it, using her as an anchor for my sanity. I'm still terrified. I don't know what's going on. Doctors haven't told us anything. It's been hours. I can tell Rachel is starting to become unsure. Why is it taking so long to get an answer? What is happening? Is my Johnathan okay?

"Johnathan Laurens?" A doctor calls out. Rachel and I are instantly up, John's dad behind us. We rush over to the doctor.

"Is there any news?" Rachel asks.

"Please, please you have to have something," I beg. 

Tears are coming to my eyes. A bit of worry begins to grow in my stomach. I hold onto Rachel's hand, panicking almost. I don't know what this doctor is about to tell me, but I know it's going to seriously define the rest of my life. The two answers he could give me are total opposites but with the shape the person I am. He John died, I don't know what I'll do. I don't know how I'll function. I would die. I would stop taking care of myself and end up dead. I can barely remember to eat now without him reminding me, but if he was gone? I wouldn't eat, drink, sleep. I would be a robot. It wouldn't matter if I was smoking or not, I would have no one to care. It wouldn't matter what I did, if I talked to people, if I showered, if I left the dorm. I would have no one caring about me. No one to remind me they love me. I would break.

"Johnathan Laurens just got out of surgery."


	34. Black people get shot and killed by police every day and it doesn't always end up on the news (It's why you should protest)

/John/

I wake up the morning of the protest, feeling energized and ready. I'm probably just pumping with adrenaline though since I only got about two hours of sleep last night. Topher is waking up too since we both just set our alarms for the same time. I sit up and head to the shower, stepping in for a nice and quick cool one. I mumble the lyrics to a song as I shampoo and condition my hair, then brush it out in the shower. When I'm done, I step out and wrap a towel around my waist, then brush my teeth and moisturize. I make a mental note to shave since my small wisps of facial hair that have been growing on my upper lip and chin have gotten longer. I step out of the bathroom and Topher walks in, starting up the shower again.

I pick out a white tee shirt with the words 'Black Lives Matter' on it, as well as some khaki joggers to wear. I finish drying off my hair and pull it back into a ponytail so it's not in my face. The protest starts at noon, but we're getting there early to make sure that everything is in check and legal. We got the papers, but we just want to double check to make sure nothing has changed. I doubt it would though since the official giving us the papers and approval seemed very on our side about this kind of thing.

"Hey, yo, Johnny, open up," I hear a voice say. I open the door to see James Varnum, one of the other organizers, standing there in his tie-dye shirt and white and black striped skinny jeans. He's from Nigeria, and is 'black as shit.' His hair his cornrowed back, with little beads on the ends. He has very soft skin, which I find out when we went drinking a few nights ago. We were all just kinda drunk and then we started touching each other's faces and laughing.

"Hey man, Topher is in the shower. We'll be ready in like, ten minutes," I say.

"Oh, y'all are good. I'm just here to steal the leftovers in your fridge, don't worry kid," James laughs, walking over to the mini fridge in the hotel room and pulling out some Chinese food. The group called me 'kid' a lot since I was the youngest. Most of them were twenty-five to thirty, and then here I was, this nineteen-year-old kid with a lot of anger and a lot of passion. They were really nice about it, though. They never brushed off my ideas because I was younger. And they were also very protective of me.

I laugh and fall back onto my bed, opening Tumblr. This week has been nonstop. From the day I set foot on the Columbia, South Carolina soil, I've been go go go. We've fought for permits, sorted out all the supplies, and made signs until our hands were practically coated with glue and ink. We've been practicing things to say, things to do. The only event that has been recurring and relaxing is my nightly conversation with Alexander. As much I love helping, and as much as I love being here, I do miss him dearly. I'm very happy that the protest is today and I'll be going home to my dearest Alexander. This spring break wasn't really much of a break, but I think I'll be fine.

Topher comes out of the shower a bit later, his hair still wet and his eyes calm. He laughs a bit while James and I, who are lying next to each other while James feeds me Chinese food and I show him memes, and then get dressed. When we are all three ready, we go out and meet Jeremiah and Adam, then head out to the government building to double check our papers. We take James' car even though it's only meant for five small people. Since I'm the shortest, I'm smooshed in the middle in the back of the car, giving the death glare to Adam and James, who are in the front and not feeling uncomfortable or squashed at all.

"Hello, we'd just like to double check our reservation for a protest, " Adam explains when we get there, smiling at the receptionist, a middle-aged white woman with tied up brown hair.

"Sure thing, sugar plum. I can do that for you, just give me a second," the receptionist says. She types a few things on her computer, then smiles sweetly at us. "Well, looks like you boys are all set. Here, I'll print you out a form with today's date so you don't get no justified trouble. I think y'all should do just fine. I'm real happy 'bout what y'all're doing."

"Are you protesting with us?" I ask.

She shakes her head and chuckles. "I don't have that kind of time, but my son, he'll be there. He heard y'all were doing this and he instantly started makin' his poster. I really do appreciate what you're standing for."

We all thank her and wish her a nice day, and then exit the building. The protest starts in front of the police station, and then we basically walk a three-mile loop until we get back. We have to stop by the hotel first for the candles we're going to have in memory of all the men, women, and children of color who were shot and killed by police. We're keeping them in James' car, which he's parking nearby. I begin to help set up tables and stands, putting food, pins, signs, and pamphlets on them. It's about noon when I get a call from Alexander. I tell the guys I'll be right back and then go and lean against James' car, smiling.

"Hiya, gorgeous," Alex says into the phone.

I let a chuckle escape my chest. "Hey, beautiful. How are you?"

"I'm not too bad, kitty boy, how're you?" Alex replies.

I shrug. "I'm good. We're setting up for the protest right now. We have about an hour until people should start showing up."

"Oh, am I keeping you away from what you need to be doing?" Alex worries.

I shake my head a bit and sigh, smiling. "No, I needed a bit of a break. It's nice to hear your voice. It'll remind me not to get hurt too bad."

Alex gasps. "Too bad? Too bad? Excuse me, Johnathan Henry Laurens-Hamilton, you will not be getting hurt at all on this excavation! If you do, so help me God I will walk down there and give whoever hurt you the beating of their lifetime! I'll throw them across a fucking parking lot! No one hurts my baby, John."

"Alex, baby, calm down," I laugh. "I promise, I'll be fine. NOthing's going to happen. This is a peaceful protest."

"Damn right it is," Alex grumbles.

"Yo, Johnny, come to help us unload these tables!" I hear Topher yell.

"Be there in one second!" I call out. "Hey, I gotta go. I love you, baby girl."

"I love you too, galaxy boy. Stay safe," Alex requests.

"For you? Always," I smile.

I hang up and go back to set up with the other guys. It's mostly just unboxing and unloading, plus a little decorating, so it's not too strenuous, which is good because I have been pretty tired and I don't think a lot of physical activity would exactly give me more energy. It takes a while to finish setting up, but, by two-thirty, when the protest was set to start, everything is done and people have started showing up. At first, it's just a few hundred people, but then more begin showing up. Everyone is armed with signs, shirts, pins. People of all ages, races, genders are here. It's amazing to look around, see how lucky I am to be here right now. History is happening in North Carolina, and I just happen to be in the group that's the center of it all. I do wish Alex was here, but I'll make sure to be extra passionate to try and make up for him not being here. That being said, I need to get these people's attention, we have to start the protest soon. So, I grab a megaphone and stand on top of James' car.

"Alright, alright! That's what I'm talking about!" I yell, getting people's attention. "I am psyched to see the number of people. Right now, we're standing in front of the South Carolina police department. I look up to it, and I can see the chief staring at us. Why don't we give him a wave? Hm? Say hi to the reason we're here?"

It's pretty funny to watch a thousand different people wave to him, and it's even funnier to watch him close the blinds to his office.

"Okay, now, on a more serious note, I would like to have a moment of silence for all the innocent men, women, and children who died at the hands of our law enforcement," I say, falling silent after that. I count to thirty in my head, then speak again. "This protest, this is for so much more. Right now, we do not just stand here, representing ourselves. We stand here representing every drop of blood that has spilled from our brothers and sisters. We stand here, holding their legacy in our hands. Let us stand as we fight against tyranny, I know the chief of police is here and he would rather not have this protest, so let's show him that if you swing at our people, you better not miss, you better have another punch to throw!"

The crowd cheers. I hop down from the car and we begin walking. People are chanting. Topher has taken the megaphone and begins singing an old African American spiritual. I sing with him. I can see news stations as we walk. Reporters are talking about us, people are filming us. I sing with Topher, we hold up our signs. People chant, sing, cry. Thousands of voices fill the streets, I can hear church bells ringing. James puts his arm around Adam and I as we sing. In this moment, I can feel the spirits of thousands of people. I can feel the touch of Sally Hemings, of every man woman, and child shot dead. I can feel them with me. I'm not ashamed to say that tears are rolling down my face as I sing.

"Hey," James whispers quietly. "You good?"

I nod. "I just, we're doing this. We're doing this for our people. All the voices that were silenced are now being brought back, only ten times stronger."

James smiles and nods. "Keep going, kid. This may not fix the world, but it's making it a better place for our children. You're doing good."

I smile and nod, then continue singing. We circle the whole three miles, making it back at the sun starts to get lower in the sky. The thousand people and maybe more are still here, and we're all back where we started, outside the police station. Topher, James, Jeremiah, Adam, and I begin passing out lit candles to people since it will soon be dark. Water is being served at a rapid rate by other volunteers. The plan is to stay until midnight, keeping our candles lit, then, at midnight, we blow them out at the protest ends.

"Excuse me," an officer says, coming up to Topher, Adam and I as we talk softly.

"Yes, officer?" Topher replies. Adam places his hand on my arm when he sees me tense up. Everyone here knows my history with police, the times I've been hit, harassed, threatened.

"We're going to have to ask you to leave," the officer states.

"On what grounds?" Topher questions.

"You don't have the right to camp out here," the officer states.

"Actually," I cut in, pulling out the papers from my pocket. "We do. Check the date on that, you'll find it's today's date that we got these."

"It's a safety thing. We cannot get out," The officer states, looking at me with disgust.

"With all due respect sir, you don't even pull out onto this road. We know this. Your cars are all on the other side," Adam informs him.

"I am a police officer, you don't need an explanation to my reasoning, you just need to follow my orders, which are for you all to clear out," the officer states.

"What? You gonna bring out the fire hoses if we don't?" I hiss.

"Laurens, don't give them any ideas," Topher mumbles, a small smirk coming to his lips.

"We got a five-oh-seven, requesting back up," the police officer says. I specifically remember police code because Alex made me help him study it. A five-oh-seven is a public nuisance, usually used on drunks, drug addicts, or others.

"The only one being a public nuisance is you, officer," I snap.

"Hey, listen here, buddy, I'm the one wearing the badge right now," the officer says.

"The fuck did you just call me?" I snap.

"Is anyone filming this?" Adam calls out.

"Yeah, I am," a voice replies. I'm too busy having a stare down with the police officer o notice. Two other officers have stepped in behind him now. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous, but I'm not going to let him win.

"Now listen, we'll let you off with a warning if you disband whatever this is," the officer says. "But if not, then we're going to have to take further action."

"If I was white would you be telling me to disband this protest?" I snap.

The officer seems a little in shock.

"This is exactly what we're protesting! Unfair treatment of people of color by law enforcement!" I growl, throwing my arms up.

Suddenly, the officer raises his hand and hits me. Adam instantly pulls me back as tears form in my eyes. That shit fucking hurt. He hit me right on my cheek, just below my eye, on the bone. I can already feel it swelling.

"What the fuck!" Topher yells, pushing the officer back. That's when gunshots go off. I instantly move forward, pushing Topher out of the way so he doesn't get hit. People start screaming, but I'm too focused on making sure Topher doesn't get shot. I can see blood coming out of his leg. Another shot goes off, and suddenly, it feels like I've been kicked in the stomach. I can't breathe for a second. My vision becomes spotty, and I fall to my knees, clutching my stomach. I can feel warm blood spill through my fingers. It hurts. I've never been shot before, but it's awful. It hurts so bad. I want to vomit, scream, cry, but then I realize something. I might die. I might die. Do I want to go out at the feet of the man who shot me? No. I don't. So I stand up, grab the megaphone that was dropped, and climb to the top of James' car.

People seem to look towards me, even in the chaos. I grip my bleeding stomach, looking over the crowd. I can see Topher on the ground while Adam holds something to the wound on his leg. I can see James and Jeremiah backing people away from the police. I begin to let it sink in that these might be my last words. I'm bleeding pretty heavily and I don't know if an ambulance is going to make it, so, I am going to go out the way I knew I would.

"You see this!" I take my bloody hand away from my stomach and hold it in the air. People look to me. James gasps when he sees me and pulls out his phone. I don't focus on that though. I only focus on keeping my breathing steady and keeping myself upright. "This is the blood of my brothers and sisters! Of Stephon Clark! Of Terence Crutcher! Of Philando Castile! Of Martin Luther King Junior! Of Sally Hemings! This is the blood spilled by innocent people! This is not just my blood! This is the violence that has been committed against my people for hundreds of years!"

"Someone call an ambulance!" A voice yells.

I realize I won't be able to stand much longer, so I sit down on the car, looking over the people. They stare at me, almost in shock. "This is why we protest." My voice is getting weaker as my conscious begins to slip away. "Because this blood is not just my blood."

I lean back and stare up at the sky. Since the sun is setting, it has turned into a canvas of different colors, from blue to purple, to pink and red. It's gorgeous. I can almost hear music, I can see my grandfather, I can smell the scent of the dewy Carolina swamps on a summers morning. Memories begin to flash through my brain, memories of Alex, of my mom, of my grandpa. Birthdays, Christmases, singing with Alex on those late night drives. I can practically hear his voice, telling me to be safe, telling me he loves me. I can see Lafayette and Hercules, laughing as they smoke pot with us. I can see my cousin Aurora, Alex, and I all sitting in the backyard, drinking iced tea and talking shit about people.

"My dearest, Alexander," I whisper, staring at the sky as my vision begins to go out. "I hope you are looking at the sky right now. It's awfully pretty, just like you."


	35. A bone? A bone?? More like a whole fucking skeleton!

/John/

I may not live to see our glory.

Pain is flooding my body. I can't see, I can't hear, I can't scream. All I can do is curl up wherever I am and hurt. My stomach lurches and I almost throw up. It's a red hot pain that just won't go away. It's not subsiding, it's not fading, it almost feels like it's getting stronger. Like, like it's just never ending. My hands feel wet and sticky like blood is beginning to dry on them. My throat hurts, my stomach hurts, my chest hurts, my head hurts. A bitter taste is in my mouth, my jaw is growing sore, and my throat feels raw. I'm struggling to breathe, and it almost feels like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. Then, it all stops.

White. That's all I see. I look down and notice I'm wearing a pair of jeans and a tee shirt with a turtle on it. There's a pain in my stomach, but it's not too bad, so I begin walking. I don't know exactly where I'm walking, but soon enough, something comes into view. I can't tell what it is from this length, so I keep walking towards it. As I get closer, I realize it's a door. A small shabby wooden one. I speed up a bit and finally, I'm standing in front of it. The door is a bit shorter than me, so if I were to walk through, I'd need to bend down. But, regardless, I turn the knob and push the door open, bending down a bit and walking into the room.

It's a kitchen. The counters are made of old wood, the floor is made out of cracked tile, the cabinets look old, the table looks like it's on its last legs, especially since there's a stone holding one leg up. The kitchen is painted a light green, and the smell of fresh bread fills the room. A woman, standing by the stove, pulls out a loaf of bread and sets it on the counter. I watch as she walks to her fridge and gets some butter. She's short, maybe five foot, with long brown hair, greying a bit. She's wearing a faded floral dress. She turns and sets the bread on the table, then smiles at me.

"John, it's so wonderful to meet you," she tells me. "Please, sit down. I just made bread."

"Who are you?" I ask gently, seating myself in a creaking wooden chair. The dull pain in my stomach grows a bit, but I can still ignore it.

"I'm Eleanor, Alex's mom," the woman states, setting down the bread and butter, as well as a knife on the table.

I take this moment to really look at her. Yes, she does look like Alex. From her wavy brown hair to the larger nose and oval face. She has his lips too, and even the bags under her eyes seem to hold a striking resemblance to her son's. Her skin is darker though, so I assume Alex's dad had lighter skin.

"Really? It's truly an honor to..." I trail off. "Am I dead?"

The woman laughs. "No, don't be silly. Of course, you're not dead. You're just at the fork."

I cock my head. "The fork?"

Eleanor nods, cutting off a slice of bread and spreading some butter onto it. "You've been shot, and you're currently in the hospital, most likely undergoing surgery. Whether you live or die, well, that's not something you can know. I don't even know. Something decides for you. Maybe it's luck, maybe it's fate. I never was too into religion. But, you're stuck here until your heart stops or your eyes open."

But I will gladly join the fight.

"I just have to sit here?" I ask, panic beginning to build up in my chest. "I just have to sit here while god knows what decides whether I continue breathing or not? While ALex, my mom, my friends, while they all panic, I'm up here eating bread with you?"

Eleanor nods.

"I, there has to be something I can do! I can't just sit here and let them not know if I'm going to live or die! There has to be a way for me to know, to be able to tell, so I know what is going to happen to my dear Alex! This cannot be my legacy! There has to be some way to control who lives, who dies!"

"Either way, whether you live or die, you will always know what is happening to Alex. You will always be watching over him," Eleanor explains.

"No! I can't, I can't just watch over him as you do! I need to be with him! I need to make sure he's safe! No one does that for him! I'm the one who protects him, I'm the one who is there for him! I need to be there for him! I need to find something out! I need to-" I'm cut off when pain shoots through my body again. I cry out, leaning over in my chair and clutching my stomach. My heart is beating so fast that I can barely hear anything else. I must've bitten my tongue or cheek because the taste of blood is filling my mouth a bit.

"John, John, deep breaths, shh shh," Eleanor says quietly. "Stressing right now is not going to help you. Any chance you have of living can be affected by your emotional state now. You need to relax, you need to let yourself heal."

"I'm sorry," I mumble. "I'm sorry, I just, I panicked. I'm worried."

"We all are. Trust me, I don't want to see you die as much as the next person, but you just need to accept right now that you are on a tightrope right now, and which way you fall is not up to you, it's up to the wind," Eleanor tells me. "Right now, we just need to calm down. Why don't we chat? I am Alex's mother, you could ask me about him.

"Am, am I good enough for him?" I ask quietly.

Eleanor laughs. "Of course you are! I've been watching you two since you boys met, and he really does love you. It's nice to see my son has someone to balance him out, keep him sane and alive, you know?"

I smile. "Yeah, I know. I really do love your son."

"You two would make wonderful parents," she tells me.

And when our children tell our story.

"I hope so. What was Alex like as a little kid?" I ask.

"A lot like he is now. He caused mischief, started fights, played with all the other boys. So intelligent though. He knew how to read big books in kindergarten. I had to keep him out of the library because I know if he walked in I would half to drag him out," Eleanor laughs. "He would sing a lot, too. He doesn't sing that much anymore. I miss it."

I sigh, flinching a bit as the pain in my stomach grows a bit again. "I do too. In this, like, sort of afterlife thing, have you ever met his father?"

Eleanor chuckles. "Yes, yes I have. I yelled at the man for about an hour."

A smirk comes to my lips. "Good. How did Alex do so much at such a young age?"

"I don't know," Eleanor tells me honestly. "He's just, he's always been a hard worker. At ten, this kid was working at a store, going to school, getting amazing grades, and taking care of me. I feel bad because he grew up watching videos about how to cook, clean, spend money. He was kinda his own parent for a couple of years. Of course, I was sick, and then I was gone. I never liked that cousin though, the one they set Alex up with. He, he was just awful. But, I'm glad Alex met you. He was such a timid kid."

I smile as I listen to Eleanor talk. I wonder if there was ever a silent moment in this house. Both of them seem to love talking. It's strange to think that Alex probably got a lot of his personality from this woman. She was the one who most likely influenced Alex to write, to read, to be better. She's the one who helped him in the time she had with him. It's nice to see how he grew up a bit since I assume this is the house from his childhood home. Both he and his mother are very beautiful. I should draw her for him. She does have a very nice face.

"Make sure he's taking care of himself, okay?" Eleanor requests.

I nod, smiling.

"Come on, kid, you gotta wake up," I hear a voice say. Pain shoots through my stomach and I cry out, gripping onto the table. Tears come to my eyes as the voice echos and the pain spreads through my body, then finally subsides.

They'll tell the story of tonight.

"Who, who said that?" I ask frantically.

"Don't worry, that's a voice you can hear from the hospital," Eleanor informs me. "Someone is talking to you. What did they say?"

"They said 'come on, kid, you gotta wake up,' which means it's one of the guys from the protest. They're the only ones who call me kid," I mumble.

"Please, please Johnny, I can't lose you," another voice says.

I cry out again, pain shooting through my stomach. "My, my momma, she's talking to me. I heard her voice."

"That means your fate is going to be decided real soon," Eleanor tells me. "And as much as I enjoyed your company, I do believe you are going to soon leave me. I wish I could tell you where you are going, but I do not know. I pray that you end up back in the arms of my son. Tell me, John, did you really mean what you said to him on New Years?"

I blush a bit, wondering if she knew the full extent of our actions on New Years. "I said a lot of things on New Years. You're going to have stated a more specific time."

"You said you wanted to marry him," Eleanor clarifies.

I nod. "Yeah, I meant that."

She smiles, leaning back. "I do hope that happens."

"John, please, please wake up. I can't, I can't be without you. I love you. Please come back to us." Alex. Pain shoots through me and I almost fall out of the chair. It doesn't stop. My chest feels like it's cracking in half. My head hurts, my eyes are squeezed shut. I don't know know what is happening, but I just want it to stop.

"John, no matter what, you'll always be with Alex, remember that," I hear Eleanor's voice say. It sounds distant, and far off, and then suddenly, it's black. No pain, no nothing. I can't move, I can't see. I'm just lying there, listening to a steady beeping and someone crying. I feel sick like I'm going to vomit but it just won't come up. My throat hurts, and my stomach begins to have a dull pain radiating through it. Then, I hear something. A voice. Singing. But, it's not just any voice, it's my Alexander.

"Hold me close and hold me fast, the magic spell you cast, this is la vie en rose. When you kiss me, heaven sighs, and though I close my eyes, I see la vie en rose." I feel a hand gently hold mine. "When you press me to your heart, I'm in a world apart, a world where roses bloom. And when you speak, angels sing from above. Everyday words seem to turn into love songs. Give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be la vie en." Alex's voice cracks a bit, and I hear him sniffle. "Rose."

I feel myself begin to fall. No, no, no no no! I can't have my Alex be sad! I don't want to make him cry! Why can't I just wake up? I need to wake up. I need to wake up for him! I can't let him hurt like this! What if he was the one in this hospital bed and I was out there? How would I feel? Awful! I can't let Alex feel like this, I can't let my momma feel like this. I need to wake up. Wake up. Wake up! I have to wake up!

Tomorrow there'll be more of us.

Bright light. I'm coughing. My breathing is heavy. A loud quick beeping. Someone is sobbing. Panic rests in my chest when I realize something is down my throat. I reach up to grab it but someone holds my hands down. I don't know where I am, who I'm with, or what is happening. I can't see, I can barely hear. All I know is someone is holding me down and there is something in my throat. My arms hurt, my stomach aches, and worst of all, I don't know where my dear Alexander is. I don't know what to do.

"Okay Mr. Laurens, on the count of three, breathe out," says a strong female voice.

I nod, trying to calm myself.

"One, two, three," she says. I let out a breath and something slide out of my throat. My vision begins to come back and I feel myself being sat up, then leaned back a bit so I was still sitting up, there was just support for me.

"Water," I croak out. A cup is handed to me and I take large gulps. My eyes are closed, all I can focus on is the liquid going down my sore throat. My stomach aches, but not as bad as it did. My body feels a bit numb, so I know I'm on morphine. I open my eyes, squinting as they adjust to the bright lights. Then, finally, my vision comes into focus. A doctor is standing in front of me but moves aside so I can see past her. The first thing I see is my momma, her hand over her mouth. Then Topher and Adam. Topher is in a wheelchair. Then, finally, my Alex, who has tears rolling down his face.

The silence is broken when Alex lets a sob fall from his chest. He rushes over to me and ends up on his knees on the side of the bed, gripping my hand and sobbing. I give him a small tug and he stands, then envelopes me in a hug, being careful not to hurt me. I soon feel my momma hugging me too, and I can hear her gentle cries. I'm sure I have tears rolling down my face as well.

"John, my sweet John, John, oh my god, you're alive," Alex cries.

"My son, my son, my son," my mom repeats, tears dripping down her face.

I hug them close to me, trying to take deep breaths, though they're just coming out as little hiccups. I'm alive. I did it. I woke up. I'm holding my Alex and my mom. I'm here. I'm breathing. God damn, I did it.

"As much as I hate to break up this teary reunion, we do need to check on a few things," says the doctor. Alex and my mom let go of me and the doctor approaches me. "Hello, I'm Doctor Blackmon. Do you know who you are?"

"I'm John Laurens," I state.

"Do you know what happened?" Doctor Blackmon continues, looking down at her clipboard and reading of the question.

"I was shot," I inform her.

"Okay, I want you to move your left foot," The doctor requests. I do so, and then she asks me to move my right foot, my right arm, and my left arm. When she is satisfied that I am well enough, she exits the room, leaving me with the four people I care so deeply about.

"Holy shit, don't ever do that again, kid," Adam says. "You scared the ever living fuck out of us. Like, I almost pissed myself."

"And what were you thinking?" Topher continues, wheeling himself closer to me. "You get shot and you're just like 'you know what would look cool? Standing on a car and giving a speech.' I mean, yeah it was cool and you went fucking viral, but still! You could've died! I would've never forgiven myself if we lost you."

"I'm sorry, guys, I guess I just, I figured if I was going to die, I'd want to go out standing up for something I believe in," I state.

"Don't do that to me," my mom says. "I thought I lost my son."

"What about you, Alex? You gotta a bone to pick with me?" I laugh.

"A bone? A bone? Jesus christ, more like the whole fuckin skelton, John. What were you thinking? Topher is absolutely right! You should've called an ambulance! I was worried sick, Washington was worried sick! I thought I lost the only man I ever loved!" Alex rants. "I saw that frickin video of you just before I got on a plane and the whole flight all I could think about was whether you were still breathing or not!"

"Wait, video?" I ask, confused.

Topher nods. "Yeah, someone filmed your whole speech thing. It's been on every news site out there. And some old representative from New York made a speech earlier today. This shit has been going viral."

"How long have I been out?" I ask.

"Well, you got shot around six pm yesterday, and it's seven pm now, so about a day," Alex explains to me. "Also, that old New York rep was my professor and I wrote that speech."

"Washington did a speech about this?" I ask, shocked by the idea that he would care enough to talk about this on a public forum.

Alex nods. "Your mom called me yesterday and told me what happened while I was at the Washington's for dinner, and then I ran back to the dorm to grab a few things and Washington drove me to the airport and accompanied me to my gate, where we both watched the video of you getting shot and then doing your whole speech. After we saw that, we started making moves to get this out to the general public, so Washington called a few people, I wrote him a speech, and there we go."

"Holy shit. Me getting shot is the best thing that's ever happened," I mumble.

"Shut up! It was terrible! We were all scared," Topher informs me, giving me a playful glare and crossing his arms.

"Did anyone else get hurt?" I ask.

Adam shrugs. "A few gunshot wounds. No one died. Those three officers have been fired, so that's good. It was nice to finally meet the Alex you drunkenly cried about."

"Wait, you got drunk and cried about me?" Alex asks.

Topher nods. "You posted that thing on your story saying how you missed your boyfriend and he started crying and saying how he wanted to date you."

"John, John, you, I, what?" Alex looks shocked at my idioticness.

I shrug. "Hey, a man's gotta dream."

Later, everyone but Alex has left. I convinced my mom to get a hotel, Topher and Adam got tired, but Alex stayed headstrong in his will to keep me company. I made sure he knew that I probably wouldn't be sleeping too well, and then he made sure I knew that sleep was not something he needed and he would be happy to stay up with me. Even after several warnings from a nurse though, he still remains in my hospital bed, next to me, playing with my hair.

"I saw your mom," I say quietly.

"What?" Alex whispers, looking up at me.

"I was, I was at what she called the fork. I wasn't dead, but I didn't know if I was going to live. She was there. We were in a kitchen together. She gave me some home baked bread and we talked about you," I explain. "She was short, and she had your eyes and nose and face shape. She talked a lot, just like you. She told me she was looking out for you, keeping her eye on you. She told me I was good enough for you as well."

"You met my mom," Alex whispers.

"She was wonderful," I tell him.

Alex sniffles and hugs me closer. "I was so scared. I thought you were going to die. I thought I was going to lose you."

"Hey, hey, I'm right here," I whisper. "I didn't die. I'm not going anywhere. You got me, Alex. You got me."

He chuckles. "So, now that you've had your near death experience, are you going to like, start going to church or, I dunno, do something wild?"

I shrug. "Probably not. I just want to get home. The doctors say I'm stuck in a hospital for the next ten days, but I am being transferred up to New York on Monday, so that's nice."

Alex groans. "I can't believe this, I let you go on a trip for one week and you get shot and now I can't even sleep in the same bed as you for the next week and a half. You're never going anywhere alone ever again. Ever. I'm chaining you to me."

"Kinky," I mumble.

"Fuck," Alex complains. "No sex for a week and a half either. God dammit, Laurens."

"Go buy a dildo with Laf and make some movies, then when I leave the hospital, we can have a private showing and I can see just how annoyed you are that we weren't having sex," I suggest, smirking.

"Don't you dare get me horny. I swear to god, John. I'll fight you. I don't care you just got shot, I'll actually fight you," Alex snaps.

"Oh come on, baby. You can't really be mad at me, can you?" I tease, kissing Alex's head. "It wasn't my fault."

Alex huffs, smiling. "No, maybe not, but still. I hope that cop has a good fucking lawyer."

I laugh. "God, I love you."

He sighs. "I love you too. Never do that again. Promise?"

I nodded, hugging the smaller man a bit closer. "Promise."


	36. Drunk ethnic toddlers screaming 'fuck DA police'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter. There is a sequel.

/Alex/

John got released from the hospital one day early and then recovered wonderfully. His human rights teacher excused him from the work he missed because he got shot while protesting for human rights. I went back to class and happily shared the story of what happened to Laf, Aaron, Angelica, Thomas, James, and Washington, as well as others. I started taking a medication for sleep insomnia and John started going to AA meetings, which have apparently been going really well. He hasn't had a relapse two months, which is really good. The second half of our second semester went by wonderfully, but, as all good things do, it had to come to an end. So here I am, waking up in John's arms, on the last day of our first year of college.

"I am so happy," John mumble sleepily, "That I will not have to hear your stupid alarm for an entire three months."

I laugh as I sit up, knowing he's going to go back asleep. We never really did shake the habit of me going to bed an hour after him and waking up an hour before him. I don't mind though. I like it when he sleeps. "I still have to wake up early for work, remember?"

I have a job at a law firm. Washington's law firm to be correct. He said this was his last year as a professor and he was starting his own firm, and wanting to hire some of his students as soon as he can. This summer I'm working as more of a secretary for him, Laf as well. It pays really well since he's been working on this for a while and he's gotten some older lawyers to come in and work for a few years while the students he chose to finish up college. I only have three years left, so I should be working as a full-time lawyer by the time I'm twenty-two. I'm honestly excited.

Since today is the last day of class, there are about seventy different parties being thrown. John and I decided that the Schuyler party sounded like the best since they had a good taste in music, their apartment was bigger, and we like them most. Everyone we know is going. Theo and Aaron, Thomas and James, Maria, Laf and Herc. Angelica told us there'd be some New York University kids there, as well as maybe a couple Fordham students, so we know the party is going to be booming and probably not stop until the cops show up. Even then, we're just a bunch of drunk toddlers, who says we'll let the law get in our way?

"Yuck, work," John mutters.

I get out of bed, laughing as I peel off my tee shirt and sweatpants. "I know right, it's almost like my need to provide for you is something that I can't help, especially since you got shot this year."

"Hey!" John complains, sitting up. "You can just keep bringing that up every time you want to prove a point. It's not valid anymore. I'm alive and healed."

I slip on a tee shirt and some jeans. "Yeah, but I like bringing it up."

"You can't even see the scar," John points out.

"Because you got it tattooed," I counter. He did get it tattooed, and it's beautiful. It looks like vines are growing out of the bullet hole and weaving around his torso a bit. It took a couple trips to the tattoo shop to get it finished but it was very worth it. I like to trace it as I'm falling asleep. It's comforting.

"Exactly," John smiles.

I roll my eyes and fall back onto the bed with him, letting him hug me to his chest. I don't exactly have a reason to be out of bed so early, so why not spend this last morning in the dorm with my boyfriend? Even though it doesn't really feel like the dorm anymore, due to the fact that we've been packing our things and have stripped the walls bare of posters, and put most of our shit in boxes. We'll be spending one more night here, and then moving into our new apartment tomorrow, hopefully being successful despite the hangovers we're bound to have.

"You know, we're supposed to be, like, mourning the fact that our first year of college is over," I state. "Instead you're trying to subtly grind on me at five in the morning."

"Maybe so," John replies, laughing. "What are you going to do about it?"

I sigh, smiling as I kiss him. "We're doing this in the shower, double task."

"Like hell, we are," John mumbles. "Laf told me to never have sex in the shower. One time he and Herc, the sex experts, did it and they ended up face-planting on the shower floor and then just lying there for a bit, rethinking their life choices."

"Okay, fine, we'll have sex now, then shower together, then go get some coffee and go to class." I roll on top of John and begin grinding on him.

"Man, I love you," John says, smiling.

"I love you too," I reply.

The two of us step out of the shower, smiling at each other. I walk with a bit of a limp because even though we've been having sex for five months now, I still get sore. John has this look of pride on his face, like he just won a prize, even though he only got morning sex from me. It was good though. Even I had to admit, waking up and then riding my boyfriend is a nice way to ease myself into the day, especially since John is so pretty. It's like a reminder of why I keep myself alive, even though forgetting to eat is basically my number one talent.

"Are you sad that you won't be seeing Washington as much?" John asks as I put my clothes back on.

"Sunday dinner, every Sunday. He invited Laf, Herc, you, and I," I tell him, finger gunning and winking.

"There we go. I knew you couldn't lose contact with the only teacher who would let you argue until your face turned blue," John laughs, tying his hair up and slipping on a tee shirt. Since it's now officially summer in New York, it has gotten hotter. I'm glad I haven't been as afraid to wear short sleeves in public, because wow, I don't know if I could take New York heat in a hoodie. It's worse than South Carolina because New York not only has the heat of the sun but also the millions of people in it.

"Hush up, you know you love me," I smile.

John nods, coming over and planting a kiss on my lips. "Yeah, yeah I do."

We head out of our dorm rooms and into the cafeteria, where we buy coffee. John orders some caramel frappuccino with a sprinkle of cinnamon, while I get some iced black coffee. It's too hot to be drinking anything warm right now, but John and I can ignore the heat and walk with our hands in each other's back pocket, like Sixteen Candles. Another thing we had been doing of late was watching old films. My favorite was The Breakfast Club, while John was more of a Clueless fan. I told him he should be the bottom for the number of chick flicks he likes, then he proved that I make a perfectly good bottom.

"Okay, behave," John says as we stop at his art class.

"Make me," I giggle, biting my lip.

"God damn, I love you," he sighs, kissing me.

"I love you too," I reply. We then part ways and I head to Washington's classroom. We already took our finals last week, so we were all pretty relaxed. I did well on everything, including statistics, which I had gotten a ninety-two on. My teacher told me that my improvement was very obvious and that I should definitely be proud of it. Meanwhile, Washington told me he couldn't grade me higher than a one hundred and ten and that I should dumb myself down a bit so he doesn't have to have these moral dilemmas.

I walk into Washington's classroom to see Laf standing on the desk, dancing to French rap and twerking while Washington sits on his desk and sighs. Angie is throwing dollar bills at Laf while Aaron cheers him on and James tries to get him down. Thomas is in the aisle laughing his ass off.

"I can't leave you guys alone, can I?" I ask as I sit down.

"It's summer break! Aren't you excited?" Laf cheers, coming down from his desk and sitting next to me.

"No, he's not excited because now he has no way to get out his destructive work tendencies," Thomas jokes, sitting in the row behind us.

"Actually, I have a job, so I'll be perfectly destructive on my own," I smile, pulling out my notebook. John got me a lot at the beginning of the year, about thirty, and now, I was on the last few pages of my last one for each class. I filled up over three thousand pages with just notes this year. I don't even know how I did that. I just sort of start writing, and then, like, next thing I know, I've filled up eight pages about why the Federalist party would have been a lot better than what we have now. It's just kind of second nature, writing. Like, when I'm bored, I don't doodle, I write. I think that's why I did so well in school, I wrote a lot.

"Alex, I won't let you work too hard on this job," Washington calls out.

"Try and stop me," I laugh.

He looks up at me and blinks. "There's only so much overachieving you can do before it's just overkill."

I smile and nod. "Yup, I know."

"Okay, we have to promise not to lose contact with each other over the summer," Thomas says. "I do that a lot, but you are all my friends and I don't wanna lose contact with you. So everyone has everyone's number, right?"

Angelica nods. "Yeah, and I'm planning a beach get away with all of us, so I hope you're ready. I have a house down in Long Beach Island."

"Oh yeah, our homes are kinda all spread out around the state," I mumble.

"Where are you and John at?" Lafayette asks.

I shrug. "Like, twenty minutes from here. Just a subway ride away. Since we're probably going to be staying in that into next year, now that we both have jobs, we'll probably drive down to South Carolina and sell the truck to John's cousin Aurora, and then just fly up here. We've been up here for ten months and have used the truck a total of three times, so I don't really think we need it anymore. What about you, Laf? Are you and Herc crashing at his parent's house?"

Laf shakes his head. "No, we got an apartment all the way downtown, near the coast. It's nice, cheap, and now that Herc is selling clothes, we're making a fair amount of money. Also, I have a job with Alex this summer, so our cash flow is going to be pretty steady. Burr, you and Theo going anywhere?"

Burr nods. "We'll be in Italy for the summer. It's where Theo is from. We usually spend the summer there so we can see her family."

"Boo, you whore. You better keep in touch," Laf says. "James, Tommy, y'all gonna be in the same place? The hundred forty-six, E and seventy-sixth street?"

James nods. "You know it. We don't have the money to go anywhere else."

"That, and we don't want to go anywhere else," Thomas points out.

"He says that, but I'm getting sick of our studio. There's only so many times I can wake up to his Sunday morning opera," James complains.

"Try living with your sisters for your whole life," Angelica laughs. "Are all of you guys gonna make it to my party?"

"Wouldn't miss it, Angie," Laf smiles.

"Remember, it starts at seven but I suggest getting there early if you want any of the good drinks," Angie tells us. "There's gonna be a fair amount of people."

I groan and lean back. "I hope you guys are gonna lock your bedroom doors because people gonna be having sex in your beds if you don't."

"Don't worry, we got locks," Angelica laughs.

"Okay, class, settle down, setting down," Washington calls out. "Now, not only is this your last day, it' mine too. As most of you know, I'm stepping down from my teaching position to start my own law firm. I highly doubt any of you will be taking my, excuse me, this class next year, but just know that my replacement will be a man I've known for many years, professor Rochambeau. Today, since it is your last day, I would like to list off every single reason why I would have grey hair if I had hair thanks to you kids."

"You love us!" Thomas calls out.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Washington mumbles, running his hand over his scalp and sighing.

"Okay let's hear this," another student, says, laughing.

About thirty minutes later, Washington huffs and sits down. "And that's why if I had to pick any of you to adopt, it would be Burr because he stays in his damn lane."

"You hear that? He likes me best," Burr says.

I laugh. "Okay then, Burr."

Classes go by and then they're done. I run out of my classroom and skip right into John's arms since he was waiting for me outside. I hug him tightly and smile, pressing my lips to his. As much as I loved my first year of college, it's going to be nice to go back to my six hours a night schedule, instead of the four or five hours I had been getting for the past nine months. As much as I don't sleep, I do really like getting a full six hours. It refreshes me.

"Baby, we have a whole summer to just relax and be with each other," John says, smiling as we begin walking back to our dorm to get ready for the party at Angelica's. "We're gonna have so much fun."

"Remember that summer we worked at Subway?" I mumble, thinking back to our summer after junior year. We were both desperately in need of a job so started working at Subway together. Our shifts were usually pretty similar, so often times it would be the two of us making sandwiches. Sometimes, when work was slow, we'd throw pickles at each other and try to catch them in our mouths. Then another time, we both started talking to a guy who went to our school about cultural appropriation and why it's wrong. We never really hung out with him, but sometimes we'd sit with him and his group at lunch.

"God, don't remind me. Remember dumping more sugar into the iced tea to make it real southern iced tea?" John teases.

I smile, laughing as we walk up the steps. "Yes, oh my god. It was wild. It's nice that we're actually gonna have real jobs."

"Excuse me, mister, I already have a real job at the aquarium. I'm so excited. Since high school doesn't get out for another few weeks I'll be able to do a few school tours and I'm so excited," John gushes.

I unlock the door to our dorm and roll my eyes. "Come on, you goof, Angie will have a fit if we aren't' wearing some cool party clothes. First, though, we need to shower."

"Didn't we shower this morning?" John asks.

"Well, if you want to have a quickie right now, we're gonna need to shower again," I smirk, peeling off my shirt.

John smirks and picks me up, bringing me to the bed. "I can't wait to watch you limp through this party."

I chuckle. "Do your worst, Laurens."

John quickly slips into some khaki shorts and a tank top after our shower, which did end up and an oral dominated round two, tying his hair up in a bun and putting on some white knock-off Vans we found at a thrift store a few days after he got released from the hospital. I put on some shorts with a floral design, as well as a white tee shirt and a faded denim jacket that Herc pawned off on me since I was the only one small enough to fit it. I grab my checkered Vans and a pair of sunglasses, then put my hair up in a bun.

"Do I pass John's test of fashion superiority?" I ask sarcastically as I apply some more deodorant since I know this party will be hot.

"I think you look absolutely wonderful," John tells me, slipping on a snapback. "So, I was talking to our landlord and he told us that our mattress shipped to the apartment so he just left it inside. I have all of our other thrift stores finds in the back of my truck now, so it should just take a couple trips of unloading, and even with just the two of us, it will get done."

Since John and I are going to be apartment owners tomorrow, we bought some furniture. The only thing new we bought was a mattress, and even that we got on sale. We decided to go for a Mama Mia mismatched apartment furniture aesthetic. We have a four by four wooden table we got for fifteen dollars, a mustard yellow loveseat from the 70s we got for eighty dollars, a glass desk we got twenty-five, and four creaky diner chairs we got for twenty. We did buy thrifted kitchen things too, like pots, pans, forks, knives, plates. We bought new towels though, since we needed some. John bought some sage to burn, as well as a few other things to give our apartment some good luck. We're going to be sleeping on a mattress on the floor, but it's going to be nice. We even bought fairy lights and some more candles. It's not that big of an apartment, only one big room about the size of our dorm, a small kitchen, and a bathroom, but, like, rent is only fifteen hundred a month, and we're in a mostly Latino neighborhood, so that's going to be nice.

"That's so cool," I comment as I begin to pack a few more things, like my book bag and clothes. Since we already have a fridge in our apartment, and we plan on living in that thing until we buy a house, we sold our mini fridge to another kid of campus. That extra hundred dollars was definitely nice.

"Also, right outside our window, there's a fire escape, so that might be nice to hang out on and smoke," John tells me as he puts the clothes he was just wearing into his duffle bag. Thankfully, we don't have that many clothes so it's going to be easy to transport them.

I smile. "What time is it?"

John checks his phone. "Time for us to get going. We have clothes for tomorrow, and we'll just have to throw our bedding and these clothes into the boxes before loading up."

"Sweet," I mumble, walking out of the door with John.

"So, how are you feeling about moving?" He asks me, bumping me gently.

"I'm so excited. It's going to be nice to get out of the dorm room," I say as we begin walking to the Schuyler's apartment, which isn't too far away.

"This is our first, like, house that's actually ours," John points out.

I giggle like a little kid. "We just gotta wait for the economy to crash, then we can buy a real house. For now, we just gotta stack up those dollar bills."

"I knew that economics class would come in handy," he jokes, putting his arm around me and pulling me closer.

We continue walking to the Schuyler's apartment, and then, finally, we're taking the fancy elevator up to one of the top floors. Their father is a stock investor, one of the richest people in New York. He spends a lot of it on charity, but also on his daughters. Eliza says that sometimes she wishes she had grown up in a regular middle-class family, and that's usually when she gets a chorus of boos and a reminder that she grew up very privileged and has a very high advantage when it comes to getting attention to talk about important issues.

"Welcome to the party, boys," Peggy says as we open the door and walk inside. There looks to be about thirty people here already, and I highly doubt that it's going to stay that way for much longer.

"Happy summer!" Maria says, wearing some booty shorts and a red tee shirt crop top. Eliza looks like she's been drooling for the past twenty minutes, but snaps out of it when she sees us. She greets us too, with a hug and a smile.

"I can't believe it, we're all out of this year of college," Eliza smiles.

"I got two more years and then I'm out!" Angelica yells a bottle of beer in her hand.

"Jesus, Alex has like, five, and I have three," John states.

"Well, I have been in college for three years already," Angelica points out.

"Maria and I have only been going for two years," Eliza states.

"I'm a freshman, like these two gays," Peggy laughs.

Time passes, and soon enough, the party is raging. Music blasts on the speaks and John and I are just standing in a corner, sipping rose lemonade and making out. We would talk but due to the incredibly loud music, it's nice really possible. Thankfully though, when we finish our drinks, John pulls me onto the dance floor so we can grind on each other until we get horny enough to decide to have sex in the bathtub. The songs that are playing though aren't too incredibly sexy, so it's mostly just John and me holding each other and moving to the beat, smiling and kissing with all the other stress-free college kids. Neither of us has touched a drop of alcohol, and it's nice. I do really feel connected to John right now. It's just him and I, together in this one moment in the universe. Everything we've ever done in our lives has lead up to this moment. Everything we've ever done has brought us here. So right here, right now, it's exactly where I wanna be, because nothing else could make me feel like this.


	37. Vivimos en Washington Heights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the last chapter. It was a wild ride. I can't believe it's over. (It's not)(There's gonna be a sequel)(I've already written almost a hundred pages of it)(It'll be up in a few days). Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this book. It was very nice and light, and I thought I did at least okay. I know there were errors but someday (never) I'm going to go back and fix them. Fuck Trump -Max

/Alex/

I groan as John and I set down the loveseat in our apartment. We had refused to let anyone help us, but now we regret that since I am weak and John is uncoordinated. Somehow though, we got our loveseat up to the apartment and into the room, setting it down by the window. We both are exhausted from bringing in all the boxes, as well as the furniture, so we end up falling onto the mattress on the floor in the corner of the room, listening to the crinkling reminder that we haven't taken off the plastic covering.

"I can't believe we still have to unpack," I groan, grappling for John's hand.

"We don't have to do that just yet," John tells me, rolling on his side and looking at me.

I raise my eyebrow. "I'm not gonna have sex with you on our crinkling mattress."

John laughs, leaning in and kissing me. "I wasn't suggesting that. I think we're both too tired to actually put in the effort for sex right now. I was suggesting that we go to that stop 'n' shop I saw a block down, get some food and drink for tonight, and for the next couple of days, you know? Our fridge is basically empty and we invited all of our friends to come over tomorrow to see the new place, and I don't think we can just expect them to bring food and drink. Besides, I got paid today, so we have the money to do that."

I smile. "I can't wait to start working for Washington. This Monday is my first day and I'm incredibly excited. I know I'll only be sort of a, um, as an aide de camp, but it's gonna be awesome. I think the hours are great too. I'll be leaving pretty early since I have to be there at seven, but we'll both be getting off at three."

John nods and gently runs his hand over my cheek. "We could walk around the city together some days, maybe go on picnics. The ride home with you will be nice. I never liked going on the subway alone."

I plant a kiss on his nose. "I never liked going alone either."

A long grumble from John's stomach interrupts our moment and both of us burst out laughing, John's cheeks turning a bit red.

"I guess we should go get some food," I state, smiling as we sit up.

John nods, standing up and helping me up. "I could kill for a ginger ale right now, as well as some chips."

"Okay, I didn't see the stop 'n shop so you'll have to guide me, yeah?" I request as we get our shoes on.

"Of course, my dearest. Let us go," he laughs. I take his hand and we make our way out of the building. The New York City heat hits us like a ton of bricks. I'm glad I'm only wearing some basketball shorts and a tee shirt, as well as my Vans because it's hot. In the Caribbean, it would get hotter but people could walk around in their swimsuits or just their shorts and no shoes, and of course, there was the ocean where people would cool down in. John looks fine since he's taken a liking to crop tops recently and is wearing one that stops just above his belly button, as well as his floral shorts from last night and a pair of slip on vans.

"Ice cold piragua! Parcha, China, cherry, strawberry, and just for today, I got mamey!" A street vendor yells. John and I keep walking, hand in hand, looking over our street. We smile at the neighbors, who have peaked out of their windows to learn something they don't know. We pass a hair salon and two women make a great effort to look at us, while a third continues to cut hair. A man speaks into a microphone near a car place, talking about traffic. Finally though, despite all the noise, the two of us make it to the stop 'n' shop. I must admit, I can feel my roots bubbling up inside me, and the accent I tried so hard to lose rearing its head.

"Do you like it here?" John asks as we entered the air-conditioned building. A man with a cabbie hat wearing a red button short sleeve shirt and a white tee shirt under it looks up at us from a magazine.

"I do. I think we'll be just fine," I reply to John, grabbing a basket and strolling down the isles. We get some drinks, some chips, bread, cheese, pickles, peanut butter, ramen, eggs, some canned soups, and butter. We figure that should be enough until we call up Eliza and beg her to help us shop for food since we are a little bit incapable of doing so ourselves. It's not that we're stupid and we don't know what we want, we just kinda forget what is necessary and all that jazz. So, after a bit of begging, we got Eliza to agree to help us really shop for food within the next week. We do need it because a diet of peanut butter and ramen cannot sustain us for very long. It'll do for now though, that and the soups. Plus, Herc and Laf promised to bring us a casserole or something.

"You, you two are new to the neighborhood," says the man up front as he begins scanning our items.

"We just moved in, today," John tells him, smiling.

"I am Usnavi," the guy introduced himself.

"I'm John, and this is my boyfriend, Alexander," John tells Usnavi.

"So you moved, from where?" He asks.

"We were staying in the dorms at Columbia," John starts. "Before that, though, South Carolina was our hometown."

I cough. "Your hometown."

"Oh? Where you from?" Usnavi questions as he puts the last of our items in the bag.

"The Caribbean," I tell him.

His eyes light up and he stops bagging things for a second. "You're from the Caribbean? Like, you immigrated?"

I nod.

"Oh my god! Me too! Which island?" Usnavi asks, his smile widening.

I smile back, joy bubbling up in my chest. "Nevis, you?"

"The Dominican Republic, I love it, Jesus I'm jealous of it. Every since my folks passed on, I haven't gone back though. Heh, I gotta get on that." The man's cheeks turn a bit red as he rubs the back of his neck.

"I haven't been back in a while since I left," I tell him.

Suddenly, the door opens and an older lady walks in. Usnavi instantly gets to work, getting a lottery ticket and a cup. He fills some of it with coffee as the old woman approaches the counter, but then stops and looks at her.

"Abuela, my fridge broke. I got cafe but no con leche," Usnavi tells the older woman.

She laughs, pinching Usnavi cheek. "Try my mother's old recipe. One can of condensed milk."

Usnavi runs in the back to grab some.

"So, who are you two?" The old lady asks.

"Oh, we're new to the neighborhood, senorita," I say, my accent rearing its head and my Spanish flowing from my lips. "I'm Alexander, and this is my boyfriend, John."

"I am abuela," the woman says as Usnavi comes back out.

He dumps some of the condensed milk in the cup and then nods. "Nice."

"Ay!" Abuela says, dropping some money on the counter and taking the coffee and the lottery ticket. "Paciencia y fe..."

"That was abuela, she's not really my abuela, but she practically raised all the kids my age, this street is her escuela," Usnavi explains.

"You serve coffee?" I ask, my eyes widening.

Usnavi nods. "Ci."

"Oh boy, you're speaking this caffeine addicts language," John laughs.

"It's nice to have new customers, times are getting tough on this bodega. Two months ago, somebody bought up this place. It's getting mad expensive for some of us. A few months ago, rent was at least three hundred less a month," Usnavi explains.

I furrow my brows. "Gentrification is killing the city."

Usnavi nods. "But we live with just enough. How do you take your coffee?"

I smile. "Black."

"Good morning Usnavi!" A voice calls.

"The Rosario's, Kevin and Camila. They run the cab company," Usnavi explains to us. He then turns to the man and woman who are approaching the counter. "Pan caliente, cafe con leche!"

"Put twenty dollars on today's lottery," Kevin requests, laughing.

"One ticket, that's it," Camila scolds him.

"Hey, a man's gotta dream," Kevin shoots back, laughing.

"Don't mind him, he's all excited, 'cause Nina flew in at three am last night," Camila explains as she pulls money from her purse." She looks to John and I. "Hola, I'm Camila, you must be new. Welcome."

"Thank you, I'm Alex and this is my boyfriend, John," I state.

"I'm Kevin," the man introduces. "What building are you in?"

"E building," John answers.

"Oh, that's a wonderful building. I live in C building. Usnavi, if you're hungry, just come over, there's plenty to eat," Kevin tells us.

"Goodbye, Rosario," Usnavi calls. "Their daughter, Nina, she's off and college and tuition is mad steep. They're hard workers." Two women enter the shop and Usnavi sighs. "Daniela." He points to one. "And Carla." He points to the other. "Your daily source of gossip."

"So then Yesenia walks in the apartment," Daniela giggles as the two women get some food and drink.

"Aha," Carla replies, urging her to go on.

"She smells sex and cheap perfume." Daniela laughs. "It smells like one of those trees that you hang from the rear view mirror."

Carla covers her mouth, laughing. "Ah, no!"

"It's true!" Daniela and Carla begin to approach the counter. "She screams 'Julio who's in there with you?' And then grabs a bat and bursts into their bedroom. He's in bed with Jose from the liquor store."

"No me diga," Usnavi laughs as he bags the food and drink. "These two work at the salon. You probably passed it on your way."

"Who are you two?" Carla asks, looking John and me up and down.

"I'm Alexander, and this is my boyfriend, John," I introduce.

They both giggle and walk out with their stuff.

"Ignore them. They'll do anything for a good scoop of drama," Unsavi tells us. The bell rings and Usnavi sighs annoyedly. "Sonny, you're late."

"Chillax, you know you love me. Who're the tourists?" A shorter kid with curly hair says, picking up a broom and sweeping.

"Sonny, these are our new neighbors, John and Alex. John, Alex, this is my cousin Sonny. I'm sorry, am I keeping you guys here? I've been holding your groceries hostage," Usnavi jokes.

I shake my head. "No, it's nice, actually, to meet our neighbors and stuff like that."

"Well, get ready, because our personal favorite is coming up," Sonny jokes, sounded awfully sarcastic. We look out to see a man, tall, with broad shoulders. He has shorter curly hair and a cocky smile on his face.

"Big feet," I mumble to John.

"Alex, don't ever point this out to me, ever again. That's gay," John says, laughing. I roll my eyes, leaning against him a big and running my thumb over his hand a bit.

"Y'all ain't got no skills," the man says, walking through the door.

"Benny!" Usnavi cheers, rummaging around his counter for a few things.

"Yo lemme get a-"

Usnavi cuts Benny off, setting a candy bar on the counter. "Milky Way."

Benny nods, smiling as if this was almost an inside joke between the two. "Yeah, lemme also get a-"

Usnavi puts a paper on the counter. "Daily News."

"And a-"

Usnavi cuts Benny off again with another newspaper. "Post."

"And most important..." Benny trails off, waiting for Usnavi to come it.

"Boss' second coffee, one cream, five sugars," Usnavi says, laughing as he prepares the coffee. The thought of five sugars in a coffee makes me want to gag a bit.

"Well, who is this?" Benny says, smiling at Johnny.

John cocks his eyebrow. "Depends, who are you?"

"Me?" Benny laughs. "I'm the number one earner, the fastest learner, my boss can't keep me on the damn back burner."

"Yes he can," Usnavi points out.

"Whatever." Benny rolls his eyes, opening his milky way. "Yo, Vanessa show up yet?"

"Shut up!" Usnavi blushes.

"Hey, little homie, don't get so flustered. By the girl a meal, come on, you ain't got no skills," Benny jokes.

A girl suddenly walks in, a phone pressed to her ear. "No, no no. Mr. Johnson, I have the security deposit, it's a box in my apartment. It's not, it's not showing up in my bank statement because it's not in the bank, but I've been saving to make a down payment. No, I won't let you down. I promise."

Benny nudges Usnavi. "Here's your chance, ask her out."

"I'll see you later, we can look at that lease," the girl continues, then hangs up. She grabs a few things then comes to the counter, smiling at Usnavi. "You owe me a bottle of cold champagne, mister."

"Are you moving?" Usnavi asks, his face dropping a bit.

"Just a check and I'm on the train to downtown," the girl, Vanessa, says.

"Well," says Usnavi, preparing her coffee, putting a sprinkle of cinnamon on it. "Your coffee's on the house."

"Okay!" Vanessa says. She doesn't see Benny going 'ask her out' behind her, so she just smiles. "We got new neighbors?"

"Yeah, this is John, and his boyfriend, Alex. They just moved in today," Usnavi introduces. "They've been meeting people because I've been holding their groceries hostage."

"I'm Vanessa. I'll be moving out soon, but it's nice to meet you," she says. She looks back to the blushing man and smiles. "I'll see you later, so..."

We all watch her leave, and then Benny starts laughing. "Oh smooth operator, aw damn, there she goes. Yo, bro, take five, take a walk outside. You look exhausted."

"Shut up," Usnavi mumbles.

"He's been pining over her since high school," Sonny tells us, laughing.

"Hey, could I offer you some free advice?" John says.

Usnavi nods.

"Don't, don't let life slide. When you like someone for as long as you have, chances are, you really like them. Besides, she seemed interested in you. I think you should go for it. Ask her out. Nothing is ever gonna happen if you don't say anything," John says.

Benny claps John's shoulder. "I like this one. He's smart."

Usnavi laughs. "Thank you, John. Here, I'll let you two go now. Uh, there's gonna be a block party in a few days, with fireworks. So, you should show up."

John and nod, then take out groceries and begin walking back. It's funny, in that twenty minutes or so we spent in the shop, we just, we learned about people's lives. That's one of the cultural differences between southern America and North America. In places like Mexico, Puerto Rico, Rio, people are closer. They will treat you like family, tell you stories, feed you, talk to you, and keep you company. Back when I was a kid, I would walk down the street and say hi to people, regardless of if I knew them or not. When my mother died and I was just living alone, I was invited into many homes, including the home of her landlord, which was where I stayed until I was shipped off to America. People are just nicer in other countries.

"So, this is what life is like in Washington Heights," John says, smiling as we continue down the street.

"I love it here. I want to live here forever," I mumble.

"What if we have, like, a family? We can't live in a one-room matchbox apartment with kids running around," John jokes.

I nod. "Okay, point taken, but let's stay in New York. Yeah?"

John nods. "Yeah, most definitely."

We make our way to the apartment and then put our groceries away. John makes himself a grilled cheese pairs it with a pickle, while I just heat up some ramen and eat peanut butter off of a spoon. Thank god there's a pizza place nearby. I feel like we'll be taking advantage of that quite often.

"Should we have sex, and then shower before we finish unpacking?" John asks.

"We always have sex before we shower. Are we doing it because we're actually horny or because it's such an ideal time to have sex?" I ask, my mouth full of noodles.

"I'm always horny, babe. Besides, don't you think we need to, like, christen the apartment or something?" John points out, leaning back in his chair.

"Yes, let's christen this place with gay sex," I say sarcastically.

"You can keep talking, but I can see you getting hard," John laughs, taking a bite of his food. "What's the word, Ham man?"

"Go undo the plastic on the mattress and find a sheet," I say, smiling.

"Yes!" John cheers.

I hear him rummaging through boxes and making the bed while I finish my food. I gotta admit, Usnavi's store has the good ramen. The kind that isn't too salty but all around pleasant for poor college kids.

"John, oh my god," I gasp when I turn around to face our bed. He's lying on it, naked as the day he was born, smiling at me. He's stroking himself already, and I can't help but laugh. This boy is so excitable.

"Come here," he says, smiling.

I laugh as I pull my shirt off. "Be quiet, I don't want the neighbors thinking that two sex freaks just moved in."

John cocks an eyebrow as I slip off my shorts and boxers, straddling him. "Two sex freaks did just move in."

"They don't need to know that!"

 

"My bangs are growing out," I comment as I dry my hair out.

"No! I like your bangs! They make you look cute," John whines, slipping on his 'Respect Immigrants, Save Turtles, Protest Government' shirt.

"Don't worry," I laugh. "I'll go to the salon down the street. I'll get my dose of gossip from Daniela and Carla, fix my bangs, and everyone will be happy. You gotta thank Martha Washington for my bangs. She's the one who cut my hair like that. She just offered a trim and then, next thing you know, I have bangs. It was wild."

"You think our neighbors like us?" John asks, slipping on a pair of sweatpants and some socks while I dry out my hair a bit more.

I nod, walking out into the main room, to get dressed in my pajamas. "I think they do. They all seemed pretty friendly, and besides, I can speak Spanish, and I'm an immigrant. I fit right in with these people, and you're my trophy wife."

John laughs as I get dressed. "You, you are ridiculous. Come on, it's almost six, we could probably get done by nine or ten if we really work at it."

I nod and begin taking posters out of the boxes and hanging them up. John pulls out a speaker and turns on some African pop music. I dance around, laughing as John helps me put up our artwork. We commissioned Maria to make a collage about the unapologetic form of Hispanics, and she happily did so. So, now we have a large collage about Hispanic culture and a lot of gay shit. It's nice.

After we've lined up the posters, we move onto the plastic stars on our ceiling. We had to buy more at the store to cover our entire ceiling, but thankfully, we got enough. More than enough actually, and we end up putting some on the walls. We've always liked the stars on our ceiling. It makes us feel comfortable like we always have a connection to home.

We begin to unpack our clothes and put them in the closet. Then our books. Well, mostly my books. Turns out, the bookshelf we bought doesn't fit all of them, so we had to stack some on the floor, on top of the bookshelf, as well as in the closet. John teases me for being a book hoarder but I quickly point out that these are all the books that I want to read, plus a few that I could never give away. I also point out that he's the one who loves it when I read so much. After that, he holds up his hands and lets me be right since I am right.

Finally, though, we're done unpacking, and everything is in its place. John and I, not quite ready for bed, have taken out place on the fire escape, me sitting between his legs, both of us watching the sunset over the skyline in New York. My head rests against his chest as soft French music plays from inside the apartment. John has his hands under my shirt and is gently running his fingers over my stomach.

I sigh, happily. "I hope time stops rights now and I can just sit with you like this for the rest of my life."

John laughs, sending vibrations through me. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," I reply.

"You know, I still want to marry you," John whispers quietly.

"I still want to marry you too," I reply, placing my hands over his. "I love you, John. I love you, I love you, I love you. You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die. I cannot imagine a life without you. I would rather spend a lifetime with you than all the ages of this world alone."

"You are truly the one man who has stolen my heart," John tells me, smiling.

"Only to make up for the heart you stole from me, my love," I reply.

He sighs gently. "You're quite a stunner."

I chuckle. "Do something for me?"

"Anything," John answers quickly. "Just say the word. Do you want the moon? I will pull it down tonight. Do you want all the stars in the sky? I will pluck them from that dark canvas and place them in a bowl, then give it to you. There is no limit to the miles I will travel to make you smile, my dear boy."

I turn my head and plant a kiss on his jaw. "Promise me you'll ask me to marry you?"

"On one condition," John states.

I laugh a bit. "Oh? What condition?"

John leans down and plants a small kiss on my lips. "Promise me you'll say yes."

I stare up into his beautiful hazel-grey eyes, and for a moment, I swear that we're the only things in the universe. It's just him and I, holding each other. All the stars have been washed away, the ocean has been drained, and everything else has been stripped away until it's just John and I. Until we're the only ones here. The only sound is our breathing, the only taste is his sweet honey flavored lips, the only thing I can see is him. And I love him. I love him so much.

"I promise."

THE END


	38. Sequel

Hey!

The sequel is up. This one focuses more on Phillip but does have Alex chapters and lams and shit like that and it also has a lot of drama and love drama, way more than this one did, so you should read it. 

Thanks y'all.


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